Fujimi Orchestra Volume 5:

Unfinished March
The Light and Shadow of the Concertmaster
The experience of sex is symphonic. When you listen to an orchestral performance, the ear
enjoys the harmonious blending of the different instrumental tones. In the same way, the body
enjoys the blending of sensations created by the different feelings of lips or tongues touching.
The feeling of Kei’s tongue exploring my mouth is different from when he strokes my skin with
the palm of his hand, or when he traces his fingertips over my body, but each is pleasurable in
its own way. What I feel in my ass and what I feel in my penis are as different as the sounds of
the strings and the winds, but both feel good… all of the sensations that Kei draws from the
various parts of my body intertwine with each other to create a burning harmony inside of me,
making me gasp and writhe, sob and scream. ‘Oh no Kei, not again!’ I think as I squirm in
desperation, and feeling the strength of Kei’s back muscles with my hands gives me another
dimension of pleasure. My breath hitches sweetly when I feel his lips search mine for a kiss. I
inhale and exhale softly, my breath carrying Kei’s scent with it… the smell of his hair, his skin,
his sweat… stirs the love in me.

“God… Kei…”

His voice replied to my moaning, “Is it good? Can you feel it? Oh, me too… I can’t hold back,
Yuuki… Yuuki.” My ears burned with the deep sound of his baritone voice, still lustrous even
when whispered. The rhythmic sound of his breath warmed my mind and body. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” When our hearts synchronize with our bodies, the harmony of our passion
increases uncontrollably to a peak where only we exist, and we throw ourselves from the top
freely into the sky. Our bodies tremble wildly with the joy of penetrating and being penetrated
while clutching each other…

From the pillow we share, I gazed happily at Kei’s manly profile, his eyes closed in contentment
and his breathing ragged, hair disheveled over his fair skin. The only thought in my mind was
how much I love him — a sweet feeling, not proud, tinged with sadness — not that I’m sad. It’s
more of a realization of how important our time together is… it’s hard to explain, but I guess it’s
just that I know eventually times like this will pass. It’s the sweet sorrow that’s opposite of the
desire to stay like this forever. It’s January 4th, Wednesday. It’s probably still morning… if that’s
the case, then Kei has his first service of the new year today, as the M-Kyo sub-conductor.

“Yuuki?” His mellow voice called me softly, and I smiled in response. “Did you miss me while I
was gone?”

It was the first time since we moved in together that he had been away; he had gone back to his
parents’ house in Seijo for New Year's. I knew what Kei wanted me to say, but I refused, wanting
to tease him instead, “It was only three days.”

“Didn’t you think about me?” I wanted to tease him even more because he was being so honest
and open about it.

“Well… maybe once or twice.”

“Only? Is that all?” Where was his usual ‘protective’ look? I couldn’t help laughing at Kei, since
he sounded like a pouting child.

“What do you want me to say? That I couldn’t eat without you here?” Kei fell back into his ‘poker
face.’

To think… when I first met Kei, he was a brusque man who never let his countenance break. His
192cm physique, commensurate with his dignified demeanor and placid beauty, had an
arrogance that made me wonder, ‘What the hell is with this guy?’ Even now, Kei rarely shows
his emotions when he’s in 'Conductor Tounoin' mode. I’m the one who smiles, laughs, and acts
unconcerned. When I thought about that, my urge to be mean melted away.

“Okay, you got me… it felt wrong. I don’t know how to describe it, it felt like there was a draft
here…” I didn’t want to be theatrical and point to my heart, so I put my arm around Kei’s broad
shoulders instead. “I felt unsettled, like I was lost in a storm. I wanted to see your face and hear
your voice…”

Kei, always direct in both praise and love, took my hand and placed it on his chest around his
nipple, which was still perky. Then he put his hands around my waist, reached down to gently
squeeze my ass, and asked for my lips…I thought, ‘It’s been three days since we’ve seen each
other and it’s not even noon yet…’ but my guilty feeling evaporated as I felt Kei regaining his
strength. Really, it seems like in the three days I spent with no appetite, Kei further strengthened
his already immense physical stamina.

My name is Yuuki Morimura, and I’m twenty-three years old. My official status at the moment is
being unemployed and living off of unemployment insurance, and my position among my friends
is being a violinist in the amateur ensemble called the Fujimi Citizen Symphony Orchestra,
where I am the concertmaster. However, I’m a little hesitant to call myself an ‘amateur’ since I’ve
been playing the violin for fourteen years, and I graduated from a music college, even though it
wasn’t a national one. So it feels a little disingenuous to call myself an amateur, but in reality I
am; I don’t do any professional music activities, so there’s no other way to describe myself.

The name of my boyfriend, who I’ve been daring to live with secretly, is Kei Tounoin. Until my
birthday next month, he’s the same age as me, the sub-conductor of the M-Kyo Symphony,
Fujimi’s permanent conductor, a musical genius — and a man. Until six months ago, it had
never occurred to me that I would be in a relationship with someone of the same sex… much
less that we would be in this newlywed stage. I can’t even begin to describe all the twists and
turns we went through in the six months leading up to this, but in the end I have no regrets. If
the world knew that I was living with someone of the same sex I’d be facing the firing squad, but
I love Kei. I think I’ve met the right person for me, and I embrace the term ‘better half’ with sweet
joy.
The resonance of the symphony inside me had at last faded away, and I remembered that it was
lunchtime. I opened my heavy eyes to see Kei’s profile, close enough that it wasn’t blurred by
my bad eyesight… I could clearly see the clean line of the bridge of his nose… I raised my hand
and gently traced it with my finger. Kei opened his eyes and turned his face languidly.

“You’re awake?”

“...were you sleeping?”

“I kissed you several times.”

“Sorry…”

“I don’t mind spending my New Year’s Day in bed.”

“I did my hatsumode1 with Ikushima-san and the others. Did you go?”

“Do you want to go?”

“Like... to the Meiji2 shrine?”

“Isn’t there a shrine around here?”

“I’m sure there is. Why don’t we go for a walk and see if we can find one.”

“That sounds good,” Kei said with a smile, then buried his face in my hair. “Ahh, I finally get to
have a New Year’s vacation day.”

Considering the look on his face when he returned home, it seemed that the three days at his
parents’ house had been pretty difficult. It is a banker’s house after all, so they probably had a
lot of uptight New Year’s guests. Or… maybe he had a fight with his parents. In any case, he
wanted to extend the New Year’s holiday for one more day.

“Um, where are my glasses?”

“Oh yeah, they’re over there.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

1
Hatsumode is the first Buddhist temple or Shinto shrine visit of the New Year. Many people go between
the first, second or third days of the year because they have time off for those days.
2
Meiji shrine is a Shinto shrine in Shibuya, Tokyo dedicated to the deified spirits of Emperor Meiji and his
wife.
It was a bright sunny day in Fujimi, from what I could tell through the window of our apartment
high up on the seventh floor. After having some lunch with leftover toso, osechi, and my
country-style zoni3 made with white miso, we went for our first visit to the shrine. We wandered
around in the warm, sunny weather, stopped at the small Inari, Tenjinsha, and Hachimansha4
shrines that we found, and paid our respects at all three.

Then we decided to go to Mozart — the cafe owned by Fujimi’s caretaker Nico-chan — for a
coffee to celebrate the beginning of the year. The European-style door had traditional Japanese
shimekazari on the front, and also inside as well, with a relaxed atmosphere. After the usual
New Year’s greetings and small talk, Nico-chan brought up something, “I heard that Tounoin-san
is going to write an orchestra method for Fujimi.”

“Oh, a method series. Didn’t you use something like that once?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I used the Berwyn Mills Orchestra Album, but everybody didn’t like it much, so naturally it
kind of disappeared.

“Since we have a lot of middle-aged people, we tend to drift towards just working on music.”
There are various method series for orchestra, in the same way that piano has Beyer and
Czerny. When I was in music school, I did a pretty good job of helping new students in the
orchestra every April and May. But since Fujimi was more of a hobbyist group, the lessons were
much more casual; the ensemble was like an adult taking piano lessons for fun, where they tend
to ignore the basics and foundations for future growth, and instead start with learning a song.
That’s why there are people in the group whose first piece is something by Mozart.

“It’s good to play masterworks of orchestral literature, but I think it’s not so good for beginners to
just start playing without practicing the basics. Tounoin-san was saying that everybody will
improve faster if they learn the basics properly.”

“You’re right, of course.”

“But you see, with a regular coursebook type of method, there are always some things it has
and other things it’s lacking, and in the end everyone is going to get tired of it. So…”

“If Tounoin-kun composes it himself, it would have a completely different feel, wouldn’t it?”

Kei nodded to Ishida-san’s smiling face earnestly, “This is the first time I’ve ever composed
anything, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to produce something decent, but I figure it will be a good
way for me to learn.”

3
Toso is spiced sake that’s served at New Year’s, Osechi are several small dishes made for New Year’s,
and Zoni is a New Year’s soup with vegetables and mochi rice cakes.
4
Inari is a god associated with foxes, rice and general prosperity, Tenjin is a deity of academics and
learning, and Hachiman is a deity of archery and war, but also protector of Japan and Japanese people.
“What are you saying? I’m sure you’ll do it perfectly. Right, Morimura-chan?”

“Yeah. And if you need any reference books, you can check out Okada Musical Instruments.”

“The first rehearsal is on the tenth, right?”

“Yes, next Tuesday.”

“Then let’s aim for then.”

“...But that’s less than a week away?”

“It’s just the basics, it doesn’t have to be that long.”

“Yeah, well… a couple of pages at most should be fine, I guess. Right, Ishida-san?”

“It’s better if it’s short and varied.”

“Oh, I know, why don’t you arrange a simple song that everybody knows? Like a nursery
rhyme?” When I looked at Kei’s face, I realized he was going to do his own original melody no
matter what. He’s so prideful… but I’m looking forward to it. Even if it’s just for a method book,
Kei’s sense of style will be reflected in it, and I can’t wait to see what kind of music he writes.

After resting our feet at Cafe Mozart for about thirty minutes, Kei and I went to the music store
that was a twenty-minute train ride away, where he bought staff paper and pens, and I got an
extra set of strings. We had dinner (with plenty of flies…) at Fujimi, the small restaurant in front
of Fujimi Station, and then went back to the apartment feeling like we had a good holiday. Then
we listened to CDs for a while, took a bath together and then...

It was the middle of the night when I woke up to find that Kei wasn’t next to me. I looked for him
in the pale moonlight filtering through the window, since I hadn’t closed the blinds. There was no
sign of him on the floor in front of the console, where his studio and bed shared the space. I got
out of bed with the excuse that I should use the bathroom since I was awake. I put on a
dressing gown that was different from Kei’s only in size and color.

Kei was in the dining room, where the room temperature — set for sleeping — was a little chilly.
He was wearing his gown over his pajamas, sitting with his back to me. In front of him was a
piece of staff paper, and he seemed to be deep in thought. The clock on the wall was poorly lit,
but I could read that it was three o’clock, and the paper that he seemed to be using to write his
method still looked blank. There’s no need for him to be in such a hurry… why doesn’t he do the
rest tomorrow? I tried to call out to him, but he seemed to be in the same state of concentration
that he had when he was studying music, and made no sign that he heard me. Kei is
untouchable and shouldn’t be disturbed when he’s in that mode, so I quietly let him be.

The next morning, Kei was back in bed, asleep. I tried to be as quiet as I could when I got up,
and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. On the table there was a stack of finished sheet
music, with the title Method 1 scrawled on the top. Even at a cursory glance it looked like a neat
piece of music; Kei’s first work was in canon form, a small piece I guess you could say. ‘Oh, I
admire you, Kei… it’s amazing that you can write something like this in just one night… you
really are a genius…’

I wonder if I’m making enough of an effort to become a suitable partner for him…? Of course I’m
trying, but it’s still not enough… I’ve even had to work on a simple piece like Air on the G String
for a long time, and I don’t feel like I’ve really finished it. Right now Kei and I are about as close
as the moon and the earth. That line of thinking made me want to practice right then and there,
but soon I'd have to wake Kei up, and I needed to make food so he could eat and be off. I
managed to at least do some mental practice while starting breakfast, but ended up accidentally
making a mountain of sliced cabbage. It was enough to feed a horse… oh well, there’s always
Ikushima-san, who eats like a horse.

Air on the G String is a solo violin arrangement by A.D. Wilhelmj, from the second movement of
the Third Suite for Orchestra by J.S. Bach and, as the name suggests, is played entirely on the
G string. The melody — which is often used for commercials — is simple, easy to listen to, and
memorable, which is why it’s considered to be a ‘beginner’ piece for classical music fans. And
since it’s a standard work, it can be found amongst other masterpieces in collections of popular
music. In the fall of my second year of college, I was asked to perform a small piece for an
exam, and I chose this Air. My friends warned me that I would be at a disadvantage if I chose a
piece that was too popular, but at the time I was inexplicably fond of this piece, so I went into the
exam thinking I had done everything I possibly would need to do.

I got a ‘B’ on it.

I had practiced harder than I ever had before, and I was confident and proud of my
performance. I didn’t miss a single note… I thought I had pushed myself as far as I could. Such
an evaluation of my performance made me disappointed in myself, and also doubt my abilities.
The fact that I had worked so hard and received a B felt like a judgement on my musicianship,
like I was only at a ‘B level.’ Some of my friends had gotten ‘C’s,’ but many others got ‘A’s,’ and I
really couldn’t figure out what was inferior about my performance compared to theirs. The fact
that I didn’t know the difference also seemed to reveal my limitations, so I just stopped worrying
about it, and I never played the Air again. It wasn’t until I received the Amati reproduction, my
current instrument, that I felt motivated to try the piece again; before last year’s concert, I also
struggled a lot with the Mendelssohn concerto, but in the end I discovered that the problem was
the limitation of my cheap violin. I wondered if that was also the reason for my failure with the
Air.
So for the first time in four years, I tried to play that piece I never thought I’d play again, and the
result was that half the problem was indeed due to the instrument, but the other half… was still
a mystery. Since four years had passed, now I could tell that there was something important
missing, but I couldn’t figure out what… yet. Kei says I’m overthinking it, but it just keeps
bugging me that I can’t get it right. I remember when he joked that I was a man obsessed, like a
chicken staring at an ink line that it couldn’t cross. But as long as it remained unfinished, the
irrational side of me decided that I couldn’t move on, though the rational side hoped I could. It
was a persistent desire to retroactively correct that humiliating ‘B’ grade… because a ‘B’ grade
performer was not worthy of being the genius Kei Tounoin’s lover — even though Kei told me
that my sound was the first thing he fell in love with, and always said that I wasn’t a bad player.

I actually think my performance was pretty good in the last concert, but when you become
complacent, you stagnate and regress. And if I allow myself to take even one step backwards —
no, even a half step back from my current level — I will fall further and further behind Kei, and
the distance between us as musicians will be even more than the hundred steps it already is.
After all, Kei is truly a genius, so each of his steps is like ten or more for me… and he is always
moving forward at that speed. If I want to keep up with him, I have to run as fast as I can. The
only way in which an ordinary person like me can shorten the distance between us, even a little,
is to put all my energy and effort towards that goal.

I have to do this while Kei still likes me… before he realizes I’m not good enough for him.
Whatever it takes, I have to close this gap between the genius conductor and the mediocre
violinist, a gap that started widening the moment we were born. If I can’t close it at least a little
bit, the time will come when we have to go our separate ways and I’ll be discarded. It’s
something I’ve been expecting. Even though the first time Kei noticed me it was with his ears,
not his eyes, that means from the beginning he has always paid close attention to my playing…

The only reason we became involved was because of the music that brought us together, and
it’s an undeniable fact that us both being musicians is at the core of our relationship. The reason
I was able to throw common sense and decency aside and accept Kei is because he is a
respected musician, and Kei fell in love with me because I was a violinist who attracted his
attention. No matter how much people say ‘Love is blind,’ that only works up to a point. Now that
we are in a relationship, there’s a big possibility that Kei’s feelings for me have already reached
the apex and are now in a downward phase.

That doesn’t mean that I suspect him of being unfaithful or anything like that, it’s just the
universal law of human relationships; the deeper you know someone, the more you see the bad
side of them. And if Kei starts to see that part of me, I’m sure I’ll reveal a lot of bad things about
myself, especially when it comes to music… as a musician, the perfectionist in Kei will become
distracted by my shortcomings and it will eventually create a rift between us. People’s hearts are
not so sweet that they will forgive everything just because they love you. Books, movies, and TV
dramas all over the world claim that love is a subtle thing that is always changeable, and I think
that’s probably true. There are times when love can’t forgive everything, and I think in our case
that weakness is music. If I, as a mediocre talent, lean on the fact that Kei loves me and make
no effort to improve my own abilities, he will lose his love for me. Even if I don’t slack off, if I
can’t keep up with Kei as he strives for greater heights our relationship will break down.

That’s why… I’m obsessed with the Air. If I want to keep being with Kei in the future, I have to
face the ‘B’ grade wall that I had once turned tail on, and overcome it no matter what. Of course
I’m prepared to admit that this is only the first of many hurdles I’ll have to get over in the future.
But when I think about it this way, since I’ve been stuck on something simple like Air this long, I
imagine there will eventually be a painful hurdle that’s too high and I’ll be forced to give up. I still
want to defend my position, to continue to be the better half of Kei Tounoin. I’ll spare no effort to
do so, I’m willing to give up everything else…

For example, on the day Kei left for his first day of work (a day late), as soon as I had seen him
off and closed the door, I took out my violin and started practicing Air. Ikushima-san (Kei’s friend,
a beast of a genius pianist) and his stepson (?) Sora-kun — who have taken over my apartment
downstairs and now live on my dime —came up to Kei’s apartment. We had our usual late
breakfast, though I realized it was actually time for lunch when they arrived. Of course I hadn’t
made anything yet, but I wasn’t in the mood to put my bow down. I felt bad about making them
wait, but they ended up making their own lunch and ate by themselves. I just kept on playing the
Air; if you can’t play it a hundred times, play it two hundred times. If two hundred times doesn’t
do it, then play it three hundred times. If that doesn’t work, play it a thousand — even ten
thousand times! I know that if I don’t play, I won’t get better. The only way to make something
work is to play it. Play, play, play and get over it! And yet… and yet… God damn it! Oh why, why
am I—

“Yuuki?” I stopped my bow when I heard the baritone voice. “Why are you practicing without the
lights on?”

“What? Oh, welcome back,” the room suddenly brightened, and I realized that it was already
nighttime. “Sorry, I’ll start cooking soon.”

“No problem, we can just go out to eat.”

“But it’s cold, right? I don’t want you to have to go out again. What time is it, anyway? Tonight it’s
Ikushima’s turn.”

“There’s a kitchen downstairs, no need to spoil me,” Kei took off his coat as he spoke, came
over and took the violin and bow from my hands. “Take a break for now. How many hours have
you been playing?”

“Um…” I started at eight in the morning, and now… as soon as I did the math, I felt exhausted…
oh, my arms hurt, my neck hurts, too.

“Shall I make some coffee?”

“Yeah, do it.” But I sat down immediately and rolled over. Coffee, I’ll be right with you, I just need
five minutes’ rest and then I’ll… oh, my glasses feel heavy…

I ended up falling asleep and slept until morning, when I was awakened by the sound of Kei
getting ready to head out. Somehow I got myself up and managed to see him off just in time, but
he had to go to work with only some self-service toast and coffee. It was just a small thing, and
Kei didn’t seem upset about it, but I felt like it was a depressing mistake. Since I lost my job last
November, Kei has been paying for most of my living expenses, so I decided to at least do the
housekeeping. Kei also told me that having homemade meals are a great comfort, so I didn’t
want to cut any corners.

To make up for yesterday, I planned to cook lunch and dinner for Ikushima-san and the others,
cleaned the house and did the laundry, then did my practice. I worked on the Air again until the
evening, when Ikushima-san came to eat and said, “This again?”

I knew I had to make a proper dinner today, but it was half past five already and I still had to do
the shopping, so I rushed out of the house. I bought as many ingredients as I could carry at the
usual fishmonger, butcher and grocery in the Fujimi Ginza district, then hurried home, resisting
the tingling in my arms from the weight of the bags. A man was walking towards me and staring.
Not glancing, a hard stare. I stared back, trying to see if I recognized him, but I didn’t. He was a
little older than Kei, not as tall as him though… he was about my height, with a nervous face.

‘I wonder why he’s still looking at me. Do I have something on my face?’ Feeling uncomfortable,
I casually averted my eyes and waited to pass by him… ten meters to go, five meters to go…
but he was still looking at me. ‘Maybe he does know me and I just don’t remember him?’ I
thought. During the preparation for the concert in January I had met a lot of people, maybe he
was one of them and he recognized me. If that’s the case, I shouldn’t pretend to not know
them… I decided to just breeze past instead. In case it was somebody unrelated to me, I bowed
very lightly so as not to embarrass myself if I was wrong.

I heard a “hmph” come from him and turned around to see a violin case on the back of his
leather coat. Was it a competitor… somebody from Fujimi Phil? I don’t care what group they’re
with, but what did that ‘hmph’ mean? The sound was definitely directed at me, and while it was
obvious what it meant, the reason was completely unclear. I glared at his back as he walked
away, but then he turned a corner, glancing at me as he went. Then he was gone, having left me
with a look that had the same effect as his ‘hmph.’ “What the hell?” I mumbled, within earshot of
a young mother and her child who walked past me. I hurriedly walked away.
If it’s not bad enough that Ikushima-san has a foul mouth, he also has absolutely no filter. I had
just started breading some chicken when he came in and said, “Hey, where’s the food? It’s not
done yet?”

“Sorry, I went grocery shopping a bit late.”

“Shit, I’ll just go eat at a restaurant.”

“Ah, really?” I was thinking that I really don’t need to be told off by some freeloader when I’m the
one who buys, cooks, and serves them food, when he came up behind me and peeked over my
shoulder to see what I was doing.

“Fried chicken again?” Yes, yes, I know that I

made this last week too. “Now you’re just
cutting corners. I feel sorry for Tounoin, it’s not
worth it having a wife.”

“Who are you calling a wife?”

“You’re the wife, right? Because he’s the one

that gets three meals and a nap. But you could
at least make dinner on time.”

Ikushima-san’s sarcasm hit me right where it

hurt, and I stopped talking back. Yes, it’s true
that ever since I lost my job, I’ve basically been
living like a full-time housewife, and thinking of
myself as the ‘housekeeper’ as a cover for my
laziness. Even though I’m a man, I’ve been
relying on Kei like a woman, letting him take
care of me. It was easier not to work… and
even though I was doing housework as an
excuse, I had fallen into a lifestyle where all I
had to do was play violin as a hobby. I’m sure the salary of a Sub-conductor isn’t that much, and
as a man I should help… right now I was being spoiled.

I decided to look for a job. I actually had been trying to find one for a while now, but I wasn’t sure
if I was ready for it. I was hoping to find something where the hours were around nine to five,
with a salary of at least 120,000… and I’d prefer if it were in a musical field. That means I should
apply for a job with the schools and get a part-time job in the meantime. I wonder if Nico-chan
has any connections… I’ll ask him tomorrow.
That night I fell asleep thinking about finding a job, and had a dream where I was walking
around in a daze, being rejected from jobs no matter where I went. None of them explicitly gave
me a reason for not hiring me, but I knew it was because I was gay. When I woke up the dream
was still in my head, and I realized that I must be quite traumatized by what happened back in
November, when I was forced to quit my job with the high school; one of my high school
students had fallen for Kei, and then got jealous of me and tipped off her father that I was gay —
and her father happened to be the president of the PTA. As a result of that situation, I chose the
path of the secret Christian, refusing to step on any toes and allowing myself to be fired from the
school. I don’t regret it, but it’s just one more hurdle that I had to overcome. I also don’t regret
being in love with Kei in any way, and I have the guts to admit that I’m gay if I need to. If I felt
guilty about it, even a little bit, I feel like it would be insulting to our relationship.

When you don’t feel like doing something, that means you should just act on the spur of the
moment; that Friday I went out in the morning to apply for a job. At the city office, I filled out the
form for the Board of Education, stamped it, and submitted it. Because of my previous
experience with job hunting, I knew there were two music colleges in the area. However, it was
a buyer’s market for music education jobs, since they were scarce; I guess for now I’ll just have
to wait for the results of my application. I returned to the apartment just before noon, cooked a
meal for Ikushima-san and the others, and started my practice on the Air that I had been waiting
to do all day. In the beginning I still had the job search on my mind, but eventually I became so
absorbed in my practice that I forgot about it. But that day I still was not convinced by my
playing…ahh, when will I ever graduate from this Air….?

Kei didn’t seem very happy to hear that I had started looking for a job. In his opinion, we didn’t
need to worry about who was making the money as long as we were able to get by. I wanted to
tell him that people who are used to having money don’t understand those who aren’t, but Kei
didn’t push back against the idea of it too much.

“I hope you find a good job,” he said, bringing the conversation to a close; Kei is as good at
ending a conversation as he is at starting one.

“But, once I start working, I won’t be able to make Ikushima-san and his friends their three
meals a week,” I said.

Kei made a huffy face, “I’m sure whatever you can do will be enough. Takane is taking
advantage of your good nature. They have income, they have a kitchen, so they can fend for
themselves.”

Kei can call him ‘Takane,’ yet I still don’t feel like I’m on a first-name basis with him. “It’s true, at
this point I could give ten recitals with him accompanying me.” When I was appointed as
Ikushima-san’s caterer, Kei’s condition was that for each meal, I would get one rehearsal with
accompaniment. For a concert, it would be three meals.
“When you’ve finalized your job, we can discuss the division of labor. Takane seems to think that
you are a housekeeper right now. But —“ Kei stopped talking abruptly, then finished, “Well,
that’s it for now.”

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“No, I think it’ll just piss you off.”

“Are you talking about keeping me caged in or something?” I didn’t recall exactly when, but Kei
had told me that after I complained about feeling guilty for lying around unemployed. He said he
was just happy that I was ‘his only Yuuki…’ and at that time I wasn’t ready to go back into the
working world yet, since I hadn’t recovered from the shock of being fired from the school for
being a homosexual. So I had let him spoil me.

“It’s not that I want to keep you locked up, it’s just that I want you to focus on your violin.”
I knew it… I knew it. Kei… isn’t satisfied with my current ability.

“I’m probably not going to be able to teach anymore, you know. From now on, I’m planning to
focus more on my violin than balancing the two evenly, and just have the job as a means of
earning money.” This was a decision that had been forming in my mind for some time already.
Until now, I had tried to dismiss violin as just a hobby, but I couldn’t keep up with Kei if I took
such a careless approach. If I don’t at least try to become a professional — even if it’s only in
my mind — then I won’t be able to become the concertmaster he needs...and I can’t be his
lifelong companion. The first step towards that goal is to conquer the Air, but… I know that
music isn’t something you can master in a hurry. You should give it half a year, or three years or
so. I know I should take my time and be patient, but I just want to be done with it right now!

“...I’d like to practice, if that’s okay.”

“Go ahead,” Kei replied, and I turned away from the look in his eyes that seemed to say, ‘Air’
again?’ Yes, it’s still the Air.

“I’ll finish writing the method in the cabin.”

“When you’re done I’ll take care of the transcribing.”

“Please do.”

I closed the door to the cabin and sighed, ‘Don’t be in a hurry, don’t be in a hurry, don’t be in a
hurry,’ I said to myself. ‘Hurrying won’t make you better. But if you don’t practice, you’ll never get
better.’
It was Tuesday, January 10th, the first meeting of the year for Fujimi. Some thirty percent of the
members knew about Kei’s plan to create a method for the orchestra, the source of that
information of course being Ishida-san; I could just see him smiling and telling every person who
came into the Mozart cafe for coffee. When each person came in, I handed them a part with
their name written on it and explained what we were doing, “It’s just been written. The oboe part
is ready… yes… here it is. I heard that we’re going to start it today… Oh, thank you very much.
We’re going to practice the method before our orchestra pieces. Yes, yes, Tounoin-san wrote it.
Yes, thank you.” The last one was for Nico-chan, whose smiling face arrived ten minutes before
eight o’clock, as expected for the first rehearsal of the new year. He greeted me as he walked in
the door, and I handed him his part, “Here you go. The method is ready.”

“Oh, already? We’re starting it tonight? I should have come a little earlier, then.” As he said this,
he turned to look behind him. Was there somebody with him? “Sorry, sorry, come on in,” he said,
smiling as he waved in a man I hadn’t met. “I’m glad you’d like to join, Yoshino-kun. This is
Morimura-san, our concertmaster. I’m not sure if you’ll be in the firsts with him or the seconds…
I’ll have to talk it over with Icchan and the conductor.”

As Ishida-san was introducing us with a smile, Yoshino-kun stood next to him and looked down
at me. He was wearing an outfit similar to mine, and grinned as if he were expecting me. Then
he opened his lips, which were pale and had a dark blue shaving scar on them, “Hi, nice to meet
you. I’m Yoshino, a new member. I play the violin. I’m looking forward to working with you.” His
voice was smooth, like a cat’s purr, and he held out his right hand to me.

I immediately handed him the part I had kept for myself. I didn’t have any reason to, but I
thought it would be weird if I didn’t give him something, and I wasn’t going to be pushed into
shaking his hand. Then I smiled as best I could, saying, “I’m Morimura, and for tonight I’ll ask
you to play first violin. That’s the only extra part we have right now.”

“Of course, I’ll follow the concertmaster’s direction.” The superiority and hostility I had felt the
day before, when I passed this man on the street, now stood in front of me as a member of my
section. I don’t know how or when I did it, but somehow I made an enemy — and it was the kind
that would come all the way to Fujimi for me. I didn’t know what his reason or objective was, but
I knew what I had to do: fulfill the mission of the concertmaster, and secretly guard against this
man’s evil intentions so he couldn’t destroy Fujimi.

“Well, I’ll introduce you to everyone when the conductor arrives. Please have a seat here,” I
gestured to the chair I had set up for myself. “Tonight we’ll be starting with the method I handed
you, but don’t worry, it’s new to all of us. Also, the piece we’re working on is the overture to Der
Freischutz, and I have a part you can use. Sorry that I’ve written so much on it, I’ll have a copy
for you next time.” I found an empty chair and set up a new Concertmaster seat next to him.

“Don’t you need the part?” He said smugly, but I just smiled.
“Don’t worry,” I laughed, “I know both of them by heart. Oh, right, our conductor insists that we
keep our eyes on the baton while we are playing. If you look at your part while you’re making
sound you’ll get yelled at, but it’s something we’ve all experienced.”

“You’re forcing me to memorize? That’s harsh.” Yoshino opened his violin case calmly and took
out an instrument that looked to me like it was worth at least 20 or 30 million yen. His tuning was
quick and precise… from how a person sets up and tunes, I can usually read a player’s skill
level to some extent. Beginners are always sluggish, revealing their inexperience with the
instrument, while those that are quick have a familiarity that means the player has had a lot of
practice doing it. Yoshino must have started playing violin before he started elementary school;
he finished tuning with ease, like putting toothpaste on a toothbrush, and with impeccable
intonation. Then he quickly read through the method, flipped through Der Freischutz and
glanced at me with that same ‘hmph’ expression he had the other night.

I was pissed off, but I didn’t care, and went to work helping tune the others. The tall conductor
came in the door, waiting for me to finish; we usually didn’t acknowledge him because Kei
always enters the rehearsal room five minutes before the start time, pretending to be invisible
while watching everybody practice… but Yoshino quickly stood up and stared at Kei. He went to
open his mouth when Nico-chan strode over to let him know that we had a new member.

“You must be Tounoin-kun. I’d like to introduce myself, I joined because I am a big fan of your
conducting. My name is Kazuhiro Yoshino, and I am the second chair first violinist in the Fujimi
Citizen Symphony Orchestra. I’ve been a member there for a number of years.” He then turned
to the rest of the group and bowed deeply, saying in his saccharine, coaxing voice, “It’s nice to
meet you all.” He came off as somebody who’s two-faced… I’m sure he has a lot of talents
when it comes to getting along in the professional world. However, it was definitely a mistake for
him to proudly declare that he belonged to the Citizen Phil. Their official name is exactly the
same as ours, but we are the original ensemble, and the members of the two groups don’t get
along well; many of the older members in Fujimi are actively anti-Citizen Phil because they
harbor old grudges. But hey, what do I know.

“Welcome to Fujimi,” Kei said coldly in response. “I’m Kei Tounoin, the resident conductor. This
is our concertmaster Morimura-san, principal second violin Ichiyama-san, principal viola…” After
a very brief introduction to the principals of each section, in which he called out their names and
asked them to stand and bow, Kei looked around at the orchestra.

“It’s been just over six months since I took over as the permanent conductor here, and what I’ve
learned in that time is that all of you have a real passion for music, but there is a gap between
that passion and your technical ability. But that’s nothing to be disappointed about, as technique
is something that can be acquired as long as you have the desire to learn. However, there are
different ways of going about this, so in order to make the best use of our time and energy, I
have created a personalized method for Fujimi. Method 1, which is what you have here tonight,
is designed for beginners who have been playing the instrument for about a year, but it should
be useful enough as an ensemble exercise as well.” Then Kei turned to me and said, “For the
time being, please work primarily on this during the part rehearsal time. In my opinion, the
sooner you start on it the better.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then let’s begin with that tonight. Method 1.”

The first piece Kei had composed in his entire life was surprisingly good in terms of sound.
Truly...I didn’t say that out of love or flattery. The canon, which in this case was a small piece
that was less than two minutes long, was designed to naturally encourage a sense of rhythm by
passing simple but pleasant phrases around the ensemble, and when the parts were playing
chords for accompaniment, they were structured in such a way that the other parts would be
able to hear each other without difficulty. The overall harmony was beautiful and the structure
well-organized… I wish it had a title. The only criticism I could think of was that it was a bit long
for beginners to learn on their first reading.

With this piece there was never any ‘STOOOP’ to be heard from Kei. Instead, he actually talked
us through the method:

“Violas, you’re late. Be precise with your counting.”

“Woodwinds, listen to each other.”
“Second violins, your bowing is off.”
“Trombone, your sound is muddy.”

We worked on the method for half of our rehearsal time — until nine o’clock — and then he
lowered his baton, “Let’s switch to Der Freischutz. Please put your instruments down.” As the
members of the orchestra looked around at each other, I set my violin and bow on the floor. “I’d
like to try some rhythm matching exercises, which we’ll use as a basic training in the future.
Principals, please stand up and face your respective sections and I’ll show you what to do. I’m
going to sing the main melody, and then each of you will join in, clapping the beat of your parts.”
I held up my hands to clap, and the others followed suit.

“One, two, three, four… La, lala, da-la, lalalala…”

I clapped the first violin part rhythm while Kei’s baritone sang the melody. For most of these
people this was the first time they had practiced rhythm independent of the music, which was
one of the building blocks of practice even in university ensembles. They quickly got the hang of
it, though the hand claps for each part of the song were not always exactly in sync with the
beats that Kei precisely tapped while he sang, revealing one of our weaknesses. Having a good
sound is important, but an ensemble cannot function without a well-developed sense of rhythm.

When he called on me, I turned around and answered, ‘Yes?”

“This exercise should also be done during the part rehearsal, in addition to working on the
method. When we start a new piece, you should work on this rhythm matching first.”

“Yes.” Kei was seriously trying to train Fujimi from the ground up, and I agreed with his
approach. And from a quick look around, it seems that the members understood that a solid
foundation is the fastest way to improve their own skill. Or maybe it’s just that they have
complete faith in their conductor…

“Now, let’s begin Der Freischutz.”

The minute we started the piece, the violinist next to me challenged me with a rival sound. To be
sure, his piano was a piano and his mezzo-forte was a mezzo-forte, but I could tell Yoshino was
challenging me all the same. It wasn’t just me being paranoid, it was like a feeling that only I
could understand: Yoshino was picking a fight with me. He wanted to show through his sound
that he was more worthy of being the principal player. Of course, I accepted the challenge. Just
because he’s the second chair of the Citizen Philharmonic, doesn’t mean I have to give up my
position in the Fujimi Orchestra!

However, Yoshino was definitely talented. Before I knew it, I was longing for Kei to call out his
‘STOOOP’... He was good, and he had a better sound than me. I was deeply relieved when the
baton signaled the end; playing in competition with others was tiring for me.

Yoshino’s voice slithered into my ear, “You’re not bad at all, are you, Concertmaster-san of the
2-Chome Orchestra?”

I forced back my irritation and smiled at him, “Thank you, Yoshino-san. And you are indeed the
second chair of the Citizen Philharmonic Orchestra.” I can’t lose to him, I absolutely refuse!

On the way home a few of us stopped by Cafe Mozart. To be precise, it was me, Kei, Iida-san,
Ichiyama-san, Kawashima-san, Haruyama-san, and for some reason — Yoshino. There were
tables available, but we all sat at our usual counter seats, waiting for Nico-chan to make us a
nice cup of coffee now that he was back in ‘café owner’ mode.

“I’ve never heard of anyone from the Philharmonic coming back to Fujimi,” said Ichiyama-san,
who was puffing on a post-rehearsal cigarette. He didn’t show it in his voice, but I could tell that
his comment wasn’t meant as a pleasant conversation starter.

“I’m going against the flow,” Yoshino said, laughing. He had the nerve to sit next to Kei, looking
like he had been a member of the group for a decade. “I’m sure there have been some people
who go to the Philharmonic from here, but I think I’m the first one who’s gone the other way.” I
thought I saw Kei’s profile twitch out of the corner of my eye, but I wasn’t sure. “By the way,
Tounoin-kun, would you be interested in conducting our group again?”
I was shocked.

From beside me he answered coldly, ”Fujimi and M-Kyo are more than enough for me.”

“I see,” Yoshino said, shrugging, “ Then I guess I’ll have to make plans to settle down here…”

Ignoring Yoshino, who seemed to have some ulterior motive, Kei called Ishida-san over, “Is it
true that the first article of Fujimi’s charter is that we don’t refuse anybody who comes to us?”

This time I wasn’t the only one who was shocked; proof of this was the glance that Nico-chan
gave to Ichiyama-san.

“It’s not exactly the first article, but it’s in the charter.”

“Is that so?” Kei fell silent. I was offended by Yoshino, but it really was unlike Kei to say things
like that and let his emotions show on his face.

“I think the first article is that having ‘harmony’ among the members is the key to having fun.
Right, Icchan?”

“The joy of orchestra is the harmony, that’s the entire point.”

It seemed that everyone was aware of Yoshino’s displeasure with Fujimi, so they were giving
him a firm — but distant — check, since he seemed like a new member that would quickly
become uncooperative. The intention was not to chase away newcomers who might disagree
with us occasionally, but we have to test them to see if they’ll fit into our ‘harmony.’ Yes, that was
the Fujimi way. It was a very family-style approach, coaxing, since as a matter of policy we try to
integrate new members and make them into friends; although one time there was that idiot
Yasaka, who had zero social skills or common sense, but we still did our best to try and make
him part of the group. Of course this all depends on the other person as well.

“Morimura-kun,” Yoshino called me casually, and I turned to him. “Will you accept a challenge?”

“Umm…”

“I’m crazy about Tounoin-kun, and if possible, I would like to be his concertmaster. So, I would
like to challenge you, as the current concertmaster, to a duel for the principal chair.”

“Wha-?”

“If you’re the better musician, I will fall in line as the second-in-command. But from what I can
tell, I think I’m more qualified to be Tounoin-kun’s concertmaster.”
“You…!” I was speechless, but Igarashi-kun picked up the slack and stood up with a start.

“You must have been listening to us for a while. You’re underestimating Fujimi, aren’t you?”

“Now, now, now!” Ichiyama-san forcibly made him sit down.

Kawashima-san turned to Nico-chan and said, “Ishida-san, what do you think?”

Nico-chan scratched his head, “I don’t know, this is kind of unprecedented. What do you want to
do, Morimura-chan?”

“I think you should accept,” Kei said. “It’s quite an insult. You’ve been questioned about your
qualifications as a concertmaster, and I don’t see why you shouldn’t answer.” His tone was
calm, but I could tell that Kei was angry. It was Yoshino’s first day of membership in the
ensemble, and he immediately issued a challenge to the concertmaster without a second
thought! He was angry because of his disrespectful attitude.

“O-of course,” I replied, but inwardly I was thinking that I would lose in a heartbeat. But like Kei
said, I couldn’t help but accept the challenge after I was openly insulted in front of all the Fujimi
people, and more than that, Kei was pissed off. I had to prove my worth to him. “Sure, I’ll accept.
How do you want to do this?”

“I suppose it should be like a competition,” Yoshino said briskly.

“Why don’t we do it like an audition, with a screen?” Said Iida-san, the cellist that also played
with M-Kyo. “If it’s a matter of skill, I’m sure there will be other candidates,” he continued,
glancing at me. No, he winked; I see, it’s a control measure… thanks for that.

“Hey,” Ichiyama-san raised his hand with a mischievous look on his face. “If the winner gets to
be concertmaster, I want to participate too.”

“Wait, so why did you recommend me for the position in the first place?” I was selected as
concertmaster almost three years ago.

Ichiyama-san smiled heartily, “That was against Ito’s Bach, right? But now that you’re the
current conductor’s right-hand man, you have to make a bigger effort — even if you also have to
be the chore boy for the orchestra.”

“So it’s decided,” Yoshino declared.

“Wait a minute,” Haruyama-san, the second violinist, objected with her usual calm demeanor.
“Don't the members of the orchestra elect the concertmaster? I’m sure everyone would be upset
if we just decided on this with such a small gathering of people."
Kawashima-san, who was strong enough to stand up to anybody — even Kei —came to my aid,
“I know I would be angry.”

“So it’s going to be decided by a member vote? Well, I’ll be at a huge disadvantage, then,”
groaned Yoshino darkly.

“I don’t know how it is with the Citizen Philharmonic, but in Fujimi the concertmaster position
needs more than just good musicianship,” replied Kawashima-san. Of course I knew she was
siding with me but… well… the way she said that made it sound like I wasn’t the concertmaster
because of my musical ability.

“Since we have our candidates, I think we should all do our best. Let’s have a concertmaster
election,” said Kei, and Igarashi-kun grumbled something to himself, but I didn’t catch it. Yoshino
was calm.

“Well, I guess we will try. I don’t think Morimura will be voted out, but if you insist…” Nico-chan
looked at Yoshino to confirm his participation.

“I’d love to,” Yoshino nodded emphatically.

“Then I’ll propose the procedure,” Kei said. “We’ll conduct it like a political election, but using the
performance of a piece in lieu of a speech. After that, the orchestra will take a vote and
determine the new Concertmaster by majority.” His proposal was passed with everybody’s nods
of approval.

“What will be the date of the event?”

“There may be other candidates, so I think we need to make sure there are equal opportunities.
We’ll announce it the day after tomorrow to the orchestra, and then perhaps we can hold the
election next week?”

“What will be the assigned piece to be performed? Depending on what it is, it wouldn’t be fair to
allow less than a month for preparation. Also, compared to the Citizen Phil, our repertoire is
much smaller, especially when it comes to solo pieces. So if it’s a piece that you have to learn
for the first time…” Ichiyama-san added.

“If you like, I have a suggestion,” Kei said.

“I have no objection.”

“Agreed,” Yoshino added. He smiled, looking as if he didn’t care what was thrown out there; he
seemed to be very confident in his skills and was anxious to show off.
“Then I suggest Air on the G String.” I looked at Kei nervously… why? Why would he choose my
weakest piece as the assignment? His face was calm and expressionless as he continued, “It’s
a well-known piece, so it would be easy for a beginner to learn. I’ll arrange to have the music
distributed at the next rehearsal.”

I nodded quickly and added, “Ah, I, uh, have a copy. So I can do that.”

“So, are we still requiring it to be memorized?” Ichiyama-san added.

“We can make a special exception for this time.”

“It’s not as good if you have to read it while performing.”

“Well, I guess it will be up to the performer to decide whether or not to use the music.”

“So, when are we going to hold the vote?”

“I’d like to get this mess over with as soon as possible, so how about next Tuesday? I think it’s
the 17th…”

“That’s after the holidays, so why not?”

“That’ll be fine.”

“I think we should draw lots for the order of performance,” Yoshino said, trying to sound smart.

“So...” Igarashi-kun interjected, “Are we sure we want to hold a concertmaster election without
discussing it with the others? Fujimi is a direct democracy, after all.”

“Ah, yes, I know. But I’ll make it work,” Nico-chan said, putting on his managerial face. “As long
as we don’t have any unpleasant surprises, I think a contest within Fujimi could be interesting.
Maybe it could be a New Year’s Tradition.”

“That depends on if it leaves behind any emotional scars,” Kawashima-san said, eyeing
Yoshino. He ignored her.

“I guess that’s that, then,” Ichiyama-san stood up and took out his wallet, counting his change
and placing it on the counter. “Thanks for the food.”

“Have a good evening.”

“Oh, it’s already past ten. Haruyama-chan, let’s go home!”

“Okay, I’m gonna get going.”

“Hey, Iida-san, is there a way we can observe an M-Kyo rehearsal?”

“If you want to see Wilhelm Zoller, I’ll talk to the office manager. But it can’t be a large group,
maybe two or three people at most.”

...And then it was only Kei, the newbie Yoshino, and myself left.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to need another cup of coffee,” Kei said.

“Oh, me too.”

“Me too, please.” I added. Nico-chan chuckled. “What? What is it?”

“You all followed each other, with the ‘me, me, me.’”

“Yeah, I guess so…”

“There are two types of men: boxers or briefs. Which are you, Morimura-chan?”5

“...What?”

“I’ve always been in the ‘boxers’ group. Or are they called ‘trunks’ now?”

“I’m in briefs. What about you, Tounoin?” I didn’t want to talk to Yoshino, so I passed the
question off to Kei even though I already knew the answer.

“Also briefs. How about you, Yoshino-kun?” Kei was respecting our rule of ‘harmony’ by playing
along.

“Oh… trunks, always have been.”

“I see… so the ‘me’ you use doesn’t always match up with the undergarments. Come to think of
it, Icchan is also a boxers guy, but he uses the other ‘me.’” Ishida-san smiled as if he had
uncovered an important bit of information, but unfortunately his attempt to lighten the mood with
the strange topic didn’t work.

“So then,” Kei said to Yoshino, “What is your goal?”

5
T/N: so, this transition and conversation doesn’t really make sense in English, but it was prompted by
the way that each of them said “Me.” In Japanese there are several ways to say “me/I,” and some are
used more by men or women in particular. In this case, the association is that if a man uses ‘Ore’ to refer
to himself it’s more ‘manly’ (briefs) and if he uses Boku then it’s more ‘boyish’ (boxers). All three guys
used boku to refer to themselves, which would imply that they all wear boxers.
“You mean, my goal in challenging the concertmaster…?”

“No, your reason for joining Fujimi.”

“Because I want to play under you,” Yoshino answered, shrugging.

“Ah, okay.”

“You don’t like my ambition, do you?”

“It’s not that,” Kei replied. “I actually think it’s an interesting experiment.”

“An experiment… I’m disappointed that’s the way you see it. To me, wanting to be your
right-hand man is a direct and serious desire.”

“You wish to be my wife?”

“Would that be a problem?” I took more interest when I heard Yoshino’s reply.

Did Kei pick the Air as the audition piece because he wanted to get rid of me? No! No, that’s
impossible. Kei thinks that I’m the only one who can be his concertmaster, he’s told me so many
times. But… maybe he’s sick of me being stuck on that piece for over a month. Or is it possible
that after hearing Yoshino’s sound he thinks he’ll be a better concertmaster than me? No, no,
no! It can’t be! Kei isn’t that capricious. Besides, he knows very well what the role of the
concertmaster is in Fujimi, and can tell whether a guy like Yoshino could do it or not. He knows
me, he knows Fujimi, and he’s made it clear that both he and Fujimi need me as a
concertmaster.

But then… why is he bothering with the Air? What are you playing at, Kei… are you trying to
push me into conquering my weakness by pitting me against Yoshino? Of course I want to win,
I’ll do my best. Don’t ever tell me again that you’re having trouble with the concertmaster… I’m
going to do it, I won’t be timid. I will definitely do something about it, I’m never going to give
Fujimi’s concertmaster position to somebody from the Civic Phil while I’m still breathing! That’s
right, no matter what it takes, I’ll play a better Air than him.

—- But reality is harsh. —-

“Why the Air….?” I had been practicing, practicing, practicing, but my efforts had not been
rewarded, and now I was complaining to Kei since he’s the one who put this incredible amount
of pressure on me.

“This isn’t the time to be asking that.”

I willed myself to put the violin back on my shoulder and raise my bow. “Maybe it’s an issue with
the bowing…” I tried reversing it, starting up-bow instead of down-bow, but I still couldn’t get it
the way I wanted. I wondered how many hours I had spent on this piece, but I told myself that I
would do my best until I could get a passing grade…

Yes, the Air was no longer just a personal goal; now it was something I had to master in order to
beat Yoshino, so I have to play better than him no matter what. I definitely wanted to win! I
wondered why Yoshino had this grudge against me, anyway… Kei suspected that he was
jealous of my spectacular debut with Ikushima-san as my accompanist… but whatever the
reason, Yoshino hated me. I guess it’s also because he admires Kei, but the real reason he
came to Fujimi was to oust me as Kei’s concertmaster. The issue at hand was the
concertmaster election, and there was no way that the people of Fujimi would let Yoshino win,
but that didn’t mean I could allow myself to lose in the contest of skill. For the sake of our
beloved Fujimi, we can’t afford to let that guy be our leader. And I know that, I do! But… how
can I compete with a performance that not even I myself am satisfied with? And my opponent is
the second chair of the Citizen Philharmonic Orchestra, which is on a different level from Fujimi
already, which means he’s a higher rank than me.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ I said to myself, I have to do this regardless. Even if I were up against Joshua
Bell or Yo Yo Ma I wouldn’t be able to back out. This is, after all, a fight for the right to stay next
to Kei, and I said I wouldn’t take even a half step back.

I heard the front door open with a bang, “Oy! Food!” I heard Ikushima-san’s voice between my
legs.

“Sorry, we’re closed for the time being,” I shouted back and lowered my bow in annoyance.
‘Ahh, I can’t let myself be this frustrated, pull yourself together, Yuuki!’ I have to finish the Air. I
have to finish it as soon as possible… I can’t worry about finding a job or pretending to be a
housekeeper until I’ve finished with this.

It was Thursday, and I dragged my exhausted body to Fujimi’s rehearsal. The night before, I
was forced to stop practicing at twelve o’clock, but I couldn’t fall asleep, and when I did I was
woken up by a nightmare. The day dawned and I spent all morning working on the Air, but all I
got for my efforts was muscle fatigue.

Nico-chan did as he promised and brought the matter of the competition up with the rest of the
group for their approval, telling them that the prize would be the position of concertmaster… and
he managed to say it in a way that neither exaggerated nor slandered Yoshino. There ended up
being five other candidates besides Yoshino and me: Miyake-san (the second-chair second
violinist, clearly Ichiyama-san’s fault) and Ichiyama-san himself, who was the principal second.
In addition to them, Nitta-san and Hazumi-san, who like Iida-san were from the M-Kyo, also
came forward — but they were probably acting as a control measure for Yoshino. But I couldn’t
be sure if that was really what they were doing; it may be that they were all secretly dissatisfied
with me as the concertmaster. I don’t mind the others, though. If it goes to Nitta-san or
Hazumi-san, who travel from Takanawa for every rehearsal just to boost Fujimi’s sound, then
they deserve it. But no, it absolutely can’t go to Yoshino.

The group rehearsal went through Method 1 three times before we started the Overture to Der
Freischutz, and everything ended with no problem. As usual, Kei helped me clean up the hall,
and as soon as we got back to the apartment I went back to practicing the Air. That night, as
before, Kei stopped me and I went to bed — but I was so frustrated with the unfinished Air that I
couldn’t even accept Kei’s advances. I bit down on my pillowcase, tossed and turned, and
eventually just waited for morning to come.

On Friday I saw dark circles under my eyes when I looked in the mirror. I had no appetite, but I
thought Kei would be worried if I didn’t eat, so I forced myself to; as soon as he left for work, I
threw up. After my stomach felt better, I immediately started practicing. But… that morning, Air
was no longer a song to me. The simple and beautiful melody had lost its meaning and inspiring
nature, and what was left in its place was a mere string of sounds that had been engraved in
every single cell of my brain. When I realized that, I was stunned — I had loved this song so
much. I had felt that it was so beautiful that I would never get tired of playing it, no matter how
much I did… but now it felt like chewing sand. I couldn’t feel anything for it, let alone love it. It
was like a grey wall that was blocking the way forward for me… that was a fact.

Feeling like my heart was empty, I realized that what Kei said to me about overthinking had
become a reality. The Air that I’m playing right now isn’t good enough to beat Yoshino — it can
barely pass for music… I tried to play it without thinking, without analyzing it or calculating. I
tried desperately to regain the aching love I used to have for this song, to remember how much I
had loved it. But it was no use… I had wandered into a cul-de-sac from a one-way street. I sat
there, slumping over unconsciously. I’ve gone in the worst direction a musician can: if you can’t
enjoy the sound you’re making, how can you make good music? What kind of music can you
make if playing is nothing but pain? My Air had self-destructed.

I was hugging my knees while huddled on the floor when I heard Ikushima-san’s voice call to
me, “What the hell, you’re here?” The sound of his footsteps came closer and I felt a heavy
presence crouch in front of me. “What are you doing, eh?” I looked up at him vaguely, and his
bear-face drew back. “Is it your Air? You look so down, man.”

“...I’m fine.”

“Are you sick?”

“No…” It’s none of your business! Please just leave me alone! I got up slowly and went to the
bed, collapsing into a heap. I couldn’t even cry… I didn’t want to think about anything. I closed
my eyes and tried to hum the Air; it was so messed up with all the pianos, fortes, crescendos,
decrescendos, and stuff that I had obscured the shape of the piece. It was like a score that had
been written on so much that it had become unreadable. Ah, I knew it, I had ruined it by being
too fussy. My Air… as I lay there on my stomach, I thought that it was pointless to try and
compete with Yoshino, and that would mean the end of my relationship with Kei. There was no
way that he would still love me when I had fallen behind even the second-chair violinist in the
Citizen Phil… and not only that, I was a person who couldn’t even get through a five-minute
piece without destroying myself over it. Kei is trying to develop Fujimi into a world-class
orchestra, and I was given the heavy responsibility of being its concertmaster. With Kei’s
Method we were starting down that path, and I had been more excited than ever — but I failed.
I’ve proven to myself that I’m not worthy of being Kei’s concertmaster… I’m finished. Done. It’s
over… my post as concertmaster will be taken away… Yoshino will take Kei away from me!
And… there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Damn it… damn it, damn it…” I cursed myself effortlessly, but a part of me was thinking that the
time had come. I hadn’t expected it to come so soon… I didn’t think I would fail to keep up with
Kei this badly. But this was reality. This is how things actually are, Yuuki Morimura.

“Yuuki?” I heard a soft voice say, and I looked up wearily. Kei was standing beside the bed, still
wearing the trench coat that suited his tall frame so well.

“...You’re back.” Some hours ago I had thrown myself on the bed in despair and remained there
in a daze.

“You’ve been playing all day again,” he said softly, pursing his lips. “Let’s go out to dinner.”

“...No thanks.”

“I’m hungry. Let’s go.” It was the gentleness of Kei’s tone that convinced me to respond.

“It’s over...” As soon as I said that, a tear ran down the bridge of my nose. “My Air… it’s…
ruined.” The desperation of knowing that this kindness would only last a little longer made the
tears keep coming and coming. “I’ve ruined it. You were right… I should have compromised
somewhere, I shouldn’t have been so ambitious. I was too obsessed and picky, and now I’ve
gone too far...”

“Air on the G String isn’t the only piece in the world.” Kei’s words felt meaningless.

“I can’t even finish Air. If I can’t do that, then there’s no future for me…” I felt a hint of a sigh and
shoved my face into the pillowcase, not wanting to let Kei see me. I felt the bed creak and sink.

“Yoshino isn’t the kind of person worth worrying about,” Kei said, but it was futile to try and
console me with that.
“The problem isn’t with Yoshino, it’s with me.”

“Anyway, let’s go out for a change. Come on, get up.” He dragged me out of bed, put a coat on
me, put on my shoes, and pushed me into a cab.

He took me to Ototsubo, the classical music pub where Ikushima-san worked part-time. He
asked, “Would you like something light to eat? How about a mixed sandwich?” I heard him order
the sandwiches, along with beef pilaf and wine.

“Oh, this is unusual.” Ikushima-san, who seemed like he was about to get to work, came over
and talked to us.

“I’d like to make a request.”

“It’s 500 yen for a short song, 1,000 for a long song.”

“Blues, please.”

“A custom order? That’s 2,000 yen for ten songs.”

“Sure, here you go.”

A few sweet, sad jazz melodies that I didn’t recognize played, but then suddenly I recognized
one of them. I looked up and Kei said to me from behind his glass of wine, “When A Man Loves
A Woman.” His austere voice accompanied the sound of the piano, which I couldn’t believe was
played by those burly hands. “When a man loves a woman… can’t keep his mind on nothing
else. He’d change the world for the good thing he’s found…”

The Manhattan-style blues that Ikushima-san played wrapped around my heart; I felt like I was
about to burst into tears, so I hid behind my wine glass. He played Georgia on my Mind, Stand
By Me, and I’ve Been Loving You Too Long. It was a custom jazz medley, and Kei told me the
title of each song when they changed. It received a big applause from the other people in the
pub, even though they had come to listen to classical piano.

The waiter brought a new bottle of wine to our table, saying, “From the Meister.” With that he
turned back.

“First,” Kei stopped him, “If he’s not too busy, would he like to join us?” The dour looking old
maître d’, a former member of M-Kyo and owner of the pub, walked over through the tables like
a conductor weaving through the orchestra. He sat down proudly in the chair that Kei pulled out
for him.
“For him, the blues is in his blood.” He said in a dry voice, accepting a glass of wine from Kei.
He took a sip, furrowed his brow, and sniffed. “Hmm… this one was an okay purchase, but it still
tastes like a cheap wine from Germany.”

“Where have you been in Europe, Meister?” Kei asked, making small talk.

“Berlin, Munich, Hamburg, Hannover… I didn’t stay very long.”

“It was before the war, wasn’t it?”

“I was in my twenties. I went from one place to another, pretending to be an apprentice.”

“And then did you go to Austria?”

“No, France first.”

“How did you manage to get into the country? I thought the situation with Germany was already
pretty bad.”

“Not at all. There were times when people were curious because I was Asian, but when things
seemed to get bad I would speak Japanese and it got me out of trouble.”

Kei had probably invited the owner over to talk as a way of taking my mind off things, but the
stories about his travels abroad — which I usually liked to listen to with great interest — seemed
dull and drab tonight.

“You were in Berlin and Vienna, right?” He asked Kei.

“Yeah. One year in each.”

“Did you feel like it was a good experience?”

“I learned the meaning of culture and history.”

“Anything else?”

“I learned how to orchestrate.”

“How about conducting?”

“Yes, that too.”

“Where at?”
“With the Berlin Philharmonic.”

“Wow… I’m surprised they accepted you.”

“Well, I bought thirty minutes’ practice time there to last for the rest of my musical life.”

“That’s a bold move.”

“It was a great orchestra.”

“Of course it was.”

“It was so good, I felt like a first-class conductor, so I stopped after about ten rounds.”

Normally Kei’s stories would have my eyes shining and asking about the details, but now it felt
dry as a desert breeze. That’s great, Kei… you’re amazing… while I’m just…

“By the way,” Kei’s tone changed, “I’d like to borrow your place for an hour or so, around noon
the day after tomorrow.”

“Hmm?”

“I want Takane to give him his graduation exam.”

“...Alright. I’ll be open at twelve.”

“Thank you very much.”

With a pout, I wondered what the hell ‘graduation exam’ meant.

‘His…’ Did he mean… me?

“Are you done eating?” I looked at the plate of sandwiches that I had barely touched.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get out of here, then.”

When our cab dropped us off, I realized we weren’t in front of the apartment building; we were at
the foot of Fujimi Bridge.

“Let’s take a little walk on the way home.” He took me by the shoulders and we started walking.
My heart, which had been swayed by Ikushima-san’s blues, was now empty again. We walked
in silence along the dark path, lit only by the lights of the town on the other side of the river. Kei
suddenly stopped and started walking towards the riverbank below the causeway. We walked
down the slope — which was covered with frostbitten grass — to the bank and sat down on the
edge of the river.

“Aren’t you cold?” I shook my head. “Ah...The stars look beautiful...” Kei murmured.

I stared at the surface of the river. The black water was swirling noiselessly as I watched it; it
wasn’t exactly like I wanted to sink into it and die... But the sight of the river at night, with its
lustrous darkness, was terrifying. It was so frightening that I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. I let
my hands fall beside my knees and dug my nails into the ground where my fingertips touched. I
felt like I was being drawn into the dark current in front of me… I’m sure if it called, I wouldn’t be
able to resist it…

“Hey, Yuuki,” Kei’s voice said quietly. “It was right around here that I first heard your violin. I had
become an assistant conductor at the MHK, but if I’m being honest I was rotting away in a
nominal post. By that point I had only continued working there out of spite, and had reached the
height of my disillusionment. I was beginning to think that it wasn’t even worth keeping it up out
of spite…

“You were playing the Sicilienne… the sound was that of a young instrument, raw and solid.
There were some flaws in the technique, but the sound was filled with a warmth that made me
feel good. It was the sound of a person who absolutely loved the violin, enjoying a moment of
relaxation at the end of the day with his beloved instrument… such a gentle sense of joy filled
the air that I couldn’t help but fall in love with it.” He laughed softly. “On the Wings of Song,
Meditation from Thaïs, Salut d’amour… Your violin playing was so relaxing that I didn’t even
notice that you had stopped and left.”

I heard the faint sound of clothes rustling, and Kei’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling
me in gently.

“You know, Yuuki… sometimes people are blessed with mysterious luck. For example, that
night… if I hadn’t heard your music, I would have been defeated by my own weakness. It would
have scarred me for life, and I might never have been able to recover from it. Because a
musician who can no longer feel anything but frustration and impatience with music can no
longer be an apostle of the muse.”

My ears perked up at that. I waited to hear what he would say next.

“But then I heard you play. Your sound softened my hardened heart and reminded me of the
beauty and tenderness that music can have. Just between you and me, I… cried. I was moved
to tears by the performance of a musician who, by objective measure, would be considered
second-rate, someone who could have been an amateur. But I realized that was the emotion
that my soul had been longing for.” Kei held me against his broad chest, and I listened to the
sound of his heartbeat and breath as he spoke, “I realized then that music is something to be
loved and enjoyed, not just studied and acquired…”

I could feel Kei’s spirit pulsing in the strong, warm rhythm under my ear, and I felt the baritone
directly from his chest say quietly, “I love you. I love you as a musician, but more than that, I
love you as a person. You are the dearest
thing in the world to me. But no matter how
much I love you, we’re still different
people… and no matter how much I wish I
could, I can’t take the cup of pain from your
lips and drink it for you.” As he spoke, he
brought our lips together. I could taste the
desperation Kei felt… taste the tears that he
was crying for me, realizing that I was lost
in a battle with myself that nobody could
help me with.

“I’m sorry…” Yes, I finally broke. “I

wanted… I wanted to be a performer worthy
of you… I wanted to be… the kind of
musician who could stay by your side
forever… who deserved to be your
concertmaster… a musician that could be
your better half!”

“Yuuki, Yuuki,” Kei shook my hand gently.

“You’re jumping to conclusions, we have a
long way to go still.”

“No, no… when I take one step, you take

ten steps, or a hundred steps… but I can
only go one at a time…”

“It’s not like that,” Kei whispered quietly.

“...It’s true that you and I may be the
tortoise and the hare, with me being more in tune with my inspiration. But I have no intention of
biting the foot of the tortoise just because it’s slower. Everybody has their own talent and their
own way of going about things, and no one way is better than the other. But the one thing that is
clear, is that when you give up on yourself, that’s when your talent ends. So… are you giving up
already?” Kei’s voice was a pianissimo, and there was a hint of fear in it. It wasn’t exactly the
same as what I felt, but still had the same fear of separation implied… “Do I have to give up on
you…?”

“...I don’t want to give up!” I answered. “If you’re not going to give up on me, I’ll…”
“How could I possibly give up on you?” Kei hugged me tightly in his arms. “I’m not going to leave
you. With the path in life I’ve chosen, I face a terrifying loneliness; I can’t walk it alone.”

It was the same thing I was thinking… we felt the same way. Kei, a genius, felt the same way I
did. “But then... isn’t it like I said, you’re all fast... and I’m all slow…?”

“Turtles can be fast in the water. Sea turtles are amazing swimmers.” I was thankful for Kei’s
words, even though he tried to play it off with a poker face. “Each one…”

As soon as he started to talk, my nose itched and started to run. “Oh dear, I must have caught a
cold.” Kei panicked like a new mother. “But… I’ll be okay.”

“Shall we go home?”

“Yeah. But first…” We hugged each other’s cold bodies gently with our frozen hands and kissed
for a long, long time. Kei arranged for a date in such a cold place, on such a cold night, to
comfort me with the warmth of his feelings… but… that’s why… I’m afraid I’m going to cry… if I
lose his love someday, how will I live…? It’s not something I want to think about right now, but
I’m sure this cold feeling of dread will continue to be a nagging chord in my heart.

I stood up with the help of his strong arms. As I climbed back up the slope, protected by his
powerful chest, I thought of the words, ‘Hell is only a plank away.’ That’s how sailors living their
lives at sea feel, and it’s also how I feel.

“Haven’t you finished the Air yet?” He asked me as we walked along the bank; he still
misunderstood my difficulty in coming back to reality even after his consoling. “In my opinion,
you’ve perfected it already.”

“...I’ve come this far, that’s true.”

“There’s a difference between stuck and being ready.”

I nodded faintly and looked up. Our eyes met, and Kei laughed, “You just have to play it with
conviction.”

“But my Air… I don’t enjoy playing it. I can’t feel any emotion.”

“I think you have too many things distracting you, like wanting to play your best or wanting to
beat Yoshino.”

“Well… yeah. I tried to not think about those things, but I just couldn’t…”
“That’s how it is. It can be difficult to let go of the things you obsess over because they’re the
reason you’re doing it in the first place… well, I guess I’m partly to blame for that.”

“Huh?”

“I chose the Air because I thought it would give you an advantage, but it backfired. I didn’t
anticipate that you would end up so depressed about it that you couldn’t eat. I accidentally
bullied you.”

I laughed quietly at that; maybe it was because Kei used a childish term like ‘bullied.’ “Yeah. I
thought, why of all things did it have to be the Air? I resented you for picking it. Though when I
think about it, it’s natural for musicians to struggle with their art. But if you get so depressed
about every single thing you play… that’s just a sign of inexperience, isn’t it?”

He laughed and I looked at him as he said, “You really do get yourself worked up, don’t you?
But somehow it’s actually kind of enjoyable to watch.”

“...What is that supposed to mean?”

“I think I might have a sadistic streak in me…” Kei said, grinning.

“No way, I’m not interested in being tied up and beaten.”

“Hmm… though the idea of you tied up…”

“I’m not kidding!” I yelled in earnest, and Kei’s grin spread wider. He stroked his chin.

“If you’re willing to take Takane’s exam, then I’ll give up... this time.”

What did he mean by ‘this time’? “...What exam?”

“Your graduation exam for the Air.”

“And what if I say no?”

“Then I guess I’ll enjoy you in a different way.”

“...I’m gonna suck, that’s for sure.”

“That’s good. When you’re so masochistically depressed, you’re incredibly sexy…”

“You’re so terrible!” Even though we were exchanging insults, I could tell that Kei was trying to
get me past my obsession with the Air. “I’d actually be relieved to have Ikushima-san call me a
lousy player.”
“It would be better not to tell Takane that it’s a test. He’s more sinister than he looks, and if he
knows the situation he’s bound to pick on you.”

“But then, why do it at all?”

“Let’s just casually ask him to accompany you. I’ll give you a grade on my own.”

“Haha… okay, I'll give it a shot.”

“Otherwise everything you’ve worked for over the past month would be for nothing.”

As I nodded, I thought about how grateful I was to have someone like Kei who understood me,
who tries to get me to appreciate the process and not the result. Oh… I’m so happy… now if my
Air that had been reduced to ashes could come back to life… if such a miracle could happen…
I’d be even happier…

And so, I had my graduation exam at Ototsubo — where a miracle did happen. I was strangely
calm as I held my violin, standing in front of the upright piano with Ikushima-san at my side,
although of course I also was a bit nervous. Perhaps it was because I was confident that this
would not cause me to be separated from Kei for the time being… or because Kei told me that
‘Air wasn’t the only song in the world…’ And once those fears were removed, I found myself
able to show off 100% of the effort I had put into this piece. I had come so far with it, and it was
obvious that there wasn’t any more that I could pick away at. So I had no more doubts. Even if I
got another ‘B’ — or even a ‘C’ — it would just be a gauge for my current ability. I wonder what
level my violin playing sounds like to the ears of Ikushima-san, who has a genius’ intuition?
Knowing this will definitely boost my confidence, I’ll make it my source of inspiration. Because
that’s the kind of player Kei wants me to be, the kind who never gives up. That was our strength
as a couple. Even if I can’t catch up to Kei, as long as I don’t stop following him, he won’t
abandon me, even if it’s just for now… My only choice was to give it my all from now on.

“Let’s begin, please,” I said to Ikushima-san, and placed my bow on the G string. I will expose
everything that I am through this simple melody written by the great Johann Sebastian Bach,
and then selected by the master violinist August Daniel Wilhelmj to create a single magnificent
piece of music. I will reveal all my sensitivity and skill through it.

The result was that… the accompaniment floundered somewhere in the middle, but I kept
playing my Air. I squeezed out every bit of tone that I could and spread the sound throughout
the space of Ototsubo. I thought it was beautiful, if I do say so myself; maybe I was being a big
smug, but… ah, it was a beautiful piece of music after all.
Ikushima-san sat in front of the piano and made me repeat it three times, whacked the keys of
the piano and came at me. He grabbed me by the chest and said, “I’ll match your Air! I promise!
I’ll find a piano to use and play such an accompaniment that it’ll make you come while you’re
playing! So keep those fingers safe!” He yelled and rushed out.

“Umm…” It looks like I won Kei’s ‘game’ but… I won against Ikushima-san? Mediocre me…
made that genius leave with his tail between his legs…?

“How did you manage to polish that piece to such a level?” The Meister said, his mouth hanging
open a bit. “I’d say you graduated from that assignment.”

I bowed my head, still in disbelief, “Thank you… sir…”

“It seems like you had a lot of trouble, but it was worth it.” I was unexpectedly dazed.

“So… what grade would you give it… on a scale from A to C?” I asked him, feeling frustrated
that I still wasn’t happy. The look on the Meister’s face made me blush, but I did really want to
hear what he would give me. “When I was still in college, I used this piece for an exam. And I
was confident with it, but I got a ‘B.’ It’s bothered me ever since…”

“A student’s confidence is mostly pretension,” the Meister assured me. “Confidence built without
good experience is just self-congratulation. You should be thankful for that useless confidence
back then, though.”

“Um...”

“The ‘B’ you got back then is what shaped your Air into its current ‘A+’ level. Right?”

“Yeah…”

The Meister nodded with a stern face, “If we were in Europe, your Air would get you money on
every street corner. Well… I don’t know if you’d be able to make a living with one song. But
that’s the way it is. Keep working hard.”

This time I was filled with joy, and not just because I had received an ‘A+’ from the Meister. Of
course that was a big part of it, but more than that, I was glad that my efforts had not been in
vain. I was worried that after all my work, it would have been for nothing if I got a ‘B’ again. The
worry that had been lodged inside me for a long time was gone. “I’ve just been stuck.” It was a
false belief! That line that had frightened and frustrated me was no longer an insurmountable
barrier. I don’t have to give up, I can have hope to cross it, I can try to go past it! Oh, it’s okay…
it’s okay for me to be a musician!
I wanted to report back to Kei as quickly as possible, so I irritably waited for the bus, stomped
my feet at every traffic light that stopped me, and leapt off at Fujimi Station. I went by the flower
shop and a cake store, then ran up the two flights of stairs and burst into the apartment.

“Kei!! I passed the exam! I’m graduating!!”

“Really? Bravo!!”

“Whoa, wait, wait, the cake!”

Some people may think I’m stupid, or that it’s silly for me to go to all that for just one small piece
of music. But for me, at that point, it was a big step forward because of how much I had suffered
to get there. And a big step has to be celebrated with flowers and cake!

While I was making my graduation dinner, I remembered something I had forgotten about
between all the depressed, nervous, and excited emotions. I’ve been to Ototsubo several times
now without a second thought, but last year I caused an ugly scene there with Kei and
Ikushima-san, in a kind of love triangle situation. I’m sure the Meister knows about my
relationship with Kei, but he didn’t give me any strange looks the other day or today, so I guess
it’s okay… I won’t worry about it. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong anyway, so there’s no
need to act like it’s shameful.

Yeah… but, there’s one more obstacle for my Air to overcome...

It was Tuesday, after the Golden Week holidays, at eight o’clock in the evening. The six
candidates for the Concertmaster position were sitting on chairs that had been put where the
podium was normally placed.

“Um,” Ishida-san looked at the group with a smile, “After a strict Amida-style lottery 6, we have
decided the order of performance for the candidates. For everyone else, please write the names
of the candidates on the checklist that I’ve handed out. Eh, first is Sadao Miyake-kun. Second is
Kumiko Nitta-kun. Three is Kazuo Ichiyama-kun. Four is Kazuhiro Yoshino-kun. Five is Yuuki
Morimura-kun. Last is Naoyuki Hazumi-kun. After they finish performing, we will hold an election
for the position of Concertmaster. Please help us choose the most suitable person to be our
leader. So, Miyake-kun, you are first. Go ahead.”

“Sure,” Miyake-san stepped forward to the performance area, bowed his head and took a seat
with a nervous look on his face, saying, “I’ll be counting on your vote.”

6
Amida is short for Amidakuji, a method of lottery designed to create random pairings between two sets
of any number of things as long as the number of elements in each set is the same. It’s used to assign
things fairly and randomly, and involves making vertical lines with horizontal lines connecting them.
I tried to listen to the performances of my opponents, fighting the nervousness that was rising in
me no matter what I did. Miyake-san and the others had played with me for years, but this was
the first time I had heard them perform a solo like this. Miyake-san’s Air clearly showed his
honest and sincere personality… if I had to give it a score, I would give it… sixty-five points.
Because he was so focused, it was hard for him to really sing through the music. The second
performer, Nitta-san, was the only female player in the group. Her dazzling performance of the
Air clearly showed the difference between a professional and an amateur, and was very
feminine. I feel bad saying this, but despite her skill, her playing didn’t really connect with me
emotionally.

“I feel like bailing, but Miyake-san already went,” Ichiyama-san said, and got up to perform. It
was quite listenable as long as you didn’t let the bad sense of pitch distract you.

And then there was Yoshino. According to Nico-chan, he was a student at the University of the
Arts, and placed third in the All-Japan Student Competition. Since then he had participated in
the Japan Music Competition as well as other international competitions, like the Elisabeth,
Tibor, and Ron Thibaud — though he hadn’t won any major prizes yet. He’s twenty-six years
old, so he’s probably about to hit his stride. Yoshino’s performance was as good as could be,
though I was annoyed by the fact that he was so used to competitions like this. He finished his
performance at a level almost equal to Nitta-kun, who was a professional in the prestigious
MHK. As he returned to his seat, he gave me a ‘hmph.’ If only his personality were better… but
now it’s my turn.

I got up, stepped forward, and bowed. I took two deep, quiet breaths and placed my violin under
my chin, then held up my bow. I tried to focus on what I wanted everyone to hear: the best Air I
could give them; whether it’s better or worse than Yoshino’s is for the listeners to decide. I
exhaled as I placed my bow on the G string, holding the four and half beats at a lento tempo in
piano, molto espressivo with unshakable pitch… the scales were smooth and legato, trills
appropriately subdued… the repeated phrases showing more emotion the second time than in
their first statement… the trills also became a little more lively… the pianissimo should be soft
and breathy, yet clear… phrasing from piano to forte and back to piano full of dynamic swells in
volume. The last pianissimo is connected to the first piano of the repetition without a pause
between, and then the power is regained like a sharp intake of breath, the kind that makes you
dizzy from lack of oxygen...expressivo… wrapping intense emotions inside of a calm demeanor,
with tender phrasing… oh, this is… it’s Kei, isn’t it? Now I see why I was holding on to this
song… why I wanted to get it just right with the sound of my violin...because it is so similar to the
image of Kei. I couldn’t help but love it.

The last pianissimo gently blended into the silence, and I lowered my bow. ‘Yes… this is my Air.’

“Bravo!” There was a burst of applause. I turned around and bowed my head, trying to go back
to my seat. Directly behind me was Iida-san, but the applause had spread to everyone. I
scratched my head absently and bowed again, thinking, ‘Ahh… thanks…’ then actually went
back to my seat.
Hazumi-san stood up, and Iida-san made a hand megaphone to shout, “Hazumi, don’t do it!
You’ll only embarrass yourself with your Bach! Nobody will pay you to play anymore!”

Hazumi-san glared at Iida-san, and I involuntarily looked down in embarrassment. But then I
heard Hazumi-san retort with a smiling voice, “I have ears too, you know. So, I guess I’m
retiring. I’ll give priority to the professionals.”

What? What? That’s…

“If I knew it was going to be like this, I wouldn’t have signed up,” Nitta-san whispered to me from
three seats over. “It’s a great shock to lose to 2-Chome,” she said, but her eyes were smiling.

Ahh, what? “That’s just because you went easy on me.” Nitta-san smiled, as if she had done her
best. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Meanwhile, Yoshino folded his arms with a ‘hmph.’

“Eh, have the ballots been distributed? Now then, please write the name of the person you
would like to nominate for Concertmaster. I’ll collect them when everyone has finished. Oh, also,
the candidates have the right to vote. Please go ahead.” Soon, all of the votes had been
deposited in the paper bag that served as the ballot box. Nico-chan nominated five witnesses,
who stood next to their respective candidates, ready to count the votes for them.

“Ehh, let’s begin… Morimura-kun… Nitta-kun… Morimura-kun… Yoshino-kun.” He flipped

through the ballots one by one, reading them out loud, and then handed them to the witnesses
next to their respective candidates. They would check the names on the ballots and then hold
them. The candidates were also asked to check the names, but only Yoshino did so.

“Ichiyama-kun, ...Morimura-kun… blank.” Ah, that’s mine. “Morimura-kun… Morimura-kun.

That’s it.” Nico-chan ripped the bag open to prove that it was empty, then looked at the
witnesses. “Please go ahead and announce the results.”

“Two votes, Miyake-san!” Miyake-san looked up when he heard Haruyama’s cheerful voice with
a confused expression.

“Who gave me the other vote?”

“We’ve got each other,” Ichiyama-san murmured next to him.

“I guess I should have voted for you, then.”

“What the hell?”

A strident soprano voice interrupted them, “Nitta-san, six votes.” Kawashima-san held up the
ballots in a fan shape for everyone to see.

“I’ll go for that. I’ve always wanted to see a beautiful Concertmaster!” Igarashi-kun said, and
everybody laughed.

“Ichiyama-san, three votes.” Icchan’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Oh thank God. I didn’t want to get zero votes, but I don’t think I have enough time to be the
concertmaster.”

“Then why did you run for the position?” Kawashima-san asked.

Ichiyama-san shrugged, “Because the idea of the competition seemed interesting.”

“I’ll go next. Yoshino-san, two votes.” I could hear Yoshino’s jaw clench next to me. When I
looked out of the corner of my eye, I saw a vein bulge on the side of his forehead.

“Morimura-san, thirty-eight votes.” I stood up from my chair amidst a round of applause. I felt like
the number of votes was a little too high, but I had expected it; this was an election for the
concertmaster, not a performance competition.

Nico-chan called me to come over, and then said, “Morimura-kun, the new Concertmaster, will
give a speech about his position, but before that, I would like to have Tounoin-kun give us his
comments.”

Kei stood up from his observer’s seat, “First of all, I would like to remind you that the results of
the voting are related only to the position of concertmaster, and are not a reflection of the
candidate’s skills or musicianship.”

Everyone knew that, of course.

“I would like to offer my personal critique only to those who wish me to do so.”

“Yes.” Miyake-san raised his hand with a serious look on his face. Ichiyama-san and Nitta-san
also raised their hands, and after some hesitation I raised mine as well.

“So that means everyone. I would also like to give some feedback on this experiment for future
reference.” I could feel everyone’s breath tighten. I quietly returned to my seat; this is a lesson
we rarely get, so I wanted to listen carefully. He began to speak in his calm baritone, “I chose
this piece as the assignment because it’s technically accessible to everyone, but at the same
time it’s quite difficult the deeper you dig into it. It’s so simple that anyone can play it, but
because of its simplicity, whether or not one can truly play it depends solely on the musicality of
the performer. It’s really a rather ideal test piece that reveals everything from your musical
choices to your practice commitment. So first of all, I would like to apologize for the rather mean
choice of music.” With that preface, he continued, “First, Miyake-san. How many hours did you
spend studying this piece?”

“Ah, not too many...”

“You played it quite well, but there is still more work to be done. In particular, pay more attention
to the crescendos and decrescendos. It needs to breathe in order to make it sound like music.”

“Yes.”

“The depth of your performance will be proportional to the amount of time spent studying it, and
I’m sure many of you have a hard time finding the time to do so. But actual playing is not the
only thing you can do. “Image Training” is a technique that involves playing a song over and
over in your head, which you can do on your way to work or in the bath. One of the reasons why
I ask for memorization is so that I can train you to do so for yourself. I’d like you to try it.”

“Yes.”

It was a rather harsh assessment and advice for an amateur, but was definitely useful if you
took it seriously, and Miyake-san listened in earnest. And as for Kei, I thought he was just going
to give a few words of advice, given his usual reticence to talk, but he was giving serious
feedback.

He continued, “Nitta-kun is already a professional player, so I feel that my criticism would just be
preaching to the choir. However, as I listened to your Air, I was thinking about the pros and cons
of technical skill. Of course, music as an art form cannot exist without technique, but technique
and emotion are not as inseparable as people usually think. It is the resonance of skill with the
emotion of the performer that moves the listener, so the technique is merely a tool for conveying
the emotion within oneself. It’s just that it can be…difficult… to do so.” Kei stammered, and
suddenly looked at me for a brief moment.

“I’m reminded of an example of this in someone I know, where the musician was trying to
faithfully reproduce his emotions, and he was pushing his technique to the limit, but with
diminishing returns. He was so caught up in all of it that he began to lose sight of himself;
somewhere along the line, he forgot the fundamental question of what he was trying to
express.”

I stifled my breath as I listened to Kei talk about me; yes, I was the ‘he’ in his example.

“The result was a piece that was technically flawless, but hollow inside. A performance that left
no room for complaint, to be sure, but left no impression. There was admiration for the
technique, but that was it. Music that is not music… but…” Kei’s tone changed. “Thankfully, he
realized this on his own. The anguish and despair he experienced will serve as a lesson for the
future.”

I closed my eyes softly. ‘Thank you… thank you, Kei….’

“I’m sorry, did I go a bit off topic? I’m not sure. Anyway, so, Nitta-kun, about your performance...
you’re already at the level where those kinds of difficulties have been overcome. However, I felt
a bit concerned with the sense of ‘familiarity’ in your skill. It’s not that I think art can only be
accomplished through blood, sweat, and tears, but if the passion to acquire something even at
the expense of your blood subsides, I feel that art will degenerate into “art.” Perhaps it’s
because of my immaturity that I’m able to be an artist right now — but in that case, I hope I can
live my whole life in search of maturity.”

Heavy words… the idea of Kei’s ‘blood, sweat, and tears’ philosophy was my starting point. I
took his advice to heart, as something to guide me.

“Now, what about Ichiyama-kun’s Air?” Kei said in a lighter tone of voice, and pushed his bangs
back with his long fingers.

“Oh!”

“In your case… you prove that technique and emotion are not necessarily mutually exclusive...”
Some of the more observant people chuckled. “The overall lack of pitch isn’t a fatal flaw, but is
the result of your passion, I guess.” The giggling spread, and he laughed too.

“The only thing that bothered me a bit were the trills. They were giving me an enka-like kobushi7
feeling,” Somebody called out.

“But, it wasn’t enough to disguise Bach. Now, for Yoshino-kun,” he began. I listened intently. “It
was an Air beyond reproach. I feel like you might have studied under Gitlis8...”

“I was his student,” Yoshino answered proudly, and Kei nodded in agreement. I listened carefully
to how he responded.

“I haven’t heard Gitlis play Air on the G String, but I’m sure it would be the same. It was very
good.” Kei said.

“Thank you,” Yoshino replied. He was just told that his violin playing was a copy of Gitlis’...
meaning that there is no originality to Kazuhiro Yoshino’s playing. But he didn’t seem to notice

7
Enka refers to a pop music genre in Japan that resembles traditional Japanese music. Kobushi is a
technique where the pitch of the singer’s voice fluctuates irregularly within one scale degree, somewhat
like vibrato, but vibrato fluctuates with regularity.
8
Ivry Gitlis (1922-2020), famous Israeli violin virtuoso.
Kei’s sarcasm when he suggested it was a “well-made copy.” He was an artless performance
engineer, but wasn’t even aware of it…

“I don’t have anything in particular to say about Morimura-san’s performance. It was well-studied
and enjoyable to listen to. I think Morimura-san’s interpretation of the Air has been perfected.”

‘Oh, really?’ I asked him with an expression if it was okay to receive such high praise, and he
replied with a smile that was only in his eyes. I’ll never forget that look, it made me soar to
heaven!

“You may not all be happy to see me re-elected as Concertmaster, but I hope you’ll take it as a
sign of my faithfulness and diligence.” I bowed my head to everyone, who showed their
appreciation by applauding. I was thankful to them for not being fooled by Yoshino’s ‘cleverness’
and their sound judgement. If he had become the head of the orchestra, it would have been the
end of Fujimi.

“That’s all for my feedback,” said Kei.

“Thank you very much. So, Morimura-kun, I’d like to congratulate you on your inauguration as
Concertmaster.”

I stood up as solemnly as I could after Nico-chan’s announcement and said earnestly, “At your
recommendation, I have been given the great responsibility of being your concertmaster, which
makes me a bit nervous. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to do, but I’ll try to take care of
everything from arranging the chairs before rehearsal and cleaning up after, to collecting the
membership fees, transcribing music, making copies, and helping other members with their
practice. I look forward to working with you.” I was answered by laughter and applause. “Well,” I
said, my voice sounding strained, “We still have about 20 minutes to go, so I’d like to move on to
practice. Tounoin-san, if you would.”

I was about to go to my usual seat when I heard a man behind me sniff and say, “Hmph.” When
I turned around, Yoshino was there, holding his violin case in one hand. He said with a twisted
sneer, “Well, the 2-Chome is still just the 2-Chome, after all.” And then he slipped away and
headed straight for the door.

I ran after him — to answer back, of course, “What do you mean?” I said to Yoshino, going out
into the corridor with my fists balled.

“Tounoin is also Tounoin. I don’t expect him to be satisfied as the permanent conductor of a
group like this, having to compromise. I’m sorry, but I just don’t buy it.”
“Don’t you think you shouldn’t jump to conclusions?” I think because I had beat Yoshino… and
then the excitement I got from Kei’s praise, made me act a little nastier. I did my best to smile
and said, “Tounoin-san is a talented conductor. So why did he choose us over the otaku9?”

Yoshino whipped around with a jerk. I was about to say something else when he grabbed me by
the chest and pushed me away. He stepped on my foot (Ow…) and I took a step back, but
then… “Waaaa~!” Where was the floor that was supposed to be behind me? I fell from the top of
the stairs that I had unknowingly come too close to, watching Yoshino’s face flinch as I went
backwards. I clawed in the air, trying to stop myself — but I couldn’t. I felt a thud in the back of
my head and saw light flash across my eyes. My body slowed and slumped when my back hit
something hard, and the breath was knocked out of me. I didn’t feel any pain, only a sense of
shock and fear churning in my heart as if it had been drained.

I heard somebody cry, “Morimura!” And then the sound of rushing footsteps.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! It was an accident!”

I felt a burning sensation in the back of my nose, and then something flowing out of it,
“Uwahhh~”

“M-Morimura!?” I heard Yoshino say from somewhere above my head.

From behind him a voice bellowed, “Don’t touch that man!” The baritone must have echoed
through the entire Civic Center. I didn’t hear any footsteps, but suddenly Kei appeared in my
field of vision as if he had descended from the sky. He bent down and lifted me up gently.
“Move!” With a single word he sent Yoshino flying away, trying to make himself scarce.

“Conductor! Come over here, Tounoin-san!” The trombone player Ito-san had come over. He
took a look at my face and said, “Hey, are you feeling okay?” I nodded my head, but my chest
hurt from being held like a baby. “All right, let’s take him upstairs for now. Come on, get out of
the way! Somebody make a bed out of some chairs!”

“I can walk…” I said, but they ignored me. I was taken back into the large conference room we
used for rehearsal and laid down.

“Is he conscious, Ito-chan?” I heard Nico-chan ask in a whisper.

“Ah, he’s okay. Right, Concertmaster?” Ito-san responded calmly.

9
T/N: so I’m sure most people are familiar with the word otaku meaning ‘geek’ or ‘nerd,’ especially in the
context of manga and anime. But really it can just mean anybody with an all-consuming interest or an
obsessive enthusiast — in this case, the ‘professionals’ in the Civic Phil. It is usually used in a derogatory
sense.
Kei asked timidly from beside him, “Can you understand me? Can you hear me?” I laughed at
how dramatic he was being, and was about to wipe my nose with my sleeve when Ito-san
stopped me.

“I’ll get some tissues. Somebody already went to get handkerchiefs and is going to wet them so
we can clean you up.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtful.” Ito-san wiped my face with a tissue, which turned bright red under my
nose and chin. While he did that, the horn player Eto-san went around touching my hands,
arms, legs and chest.

“There doesn’t seem to be any broken bones, okay, okay, okay. Just a nosebleed and… sorry…
the back of his head is bruised, but nothing broken.”

Haruyama-san trotted over and handed Ito-san a bunch of handkerchiefs. As he carefully wiped
my face — which was probably still dirty from the nosebleed — Ito-san asked, “How are you
feeling? Are you nauseous? Are you seeing any flashing lights?”

“No, I’m fine.” Kei’s shoulders slumped in relief at my reply, and then he stood up quickly. He
looked around and headed to the door. I thought, ‘Where are you going?’ Then I sat up with a
start.

“Hey, you shouldn’t get up so fast.”

Ohh...I felt dizzy… but that’s not important right now! “S-stop him! Somebody! Igarashi!”

“Huh?”

He looked at me blankly. I waved my arms around to get him to hurry up and move; Kei had a
bad track record of kicking the shit out of any poor bastard who hurt me, and according to
Igarashi’s eyewitness account, it got pretty messy last time. “Stop him! Stop the conductor!
Yoshino’s gonna get destroyed, just like Yasaka!”

“What?!” Igarashi leaped towards the door and threw it open immediately. “Stop, stop!”

“Heeeee~!” I was already going for the door as well when I heard Yoshino scream, as expected.
I ran out into the corridor. “I knew it…”

Have you ever seen a picture of a bear and a hound fighting? That’s the best way I can describe
the scene: Kei Tounoin was looming over Yoshino, who was crawling on the floor. He looked like
he was about to give him several kicks, while Igarashi was yelling for him to stop. “Tounoin-san,
please calm down! Oh, please! Mo-Morimura-san!”

That last bit was an SOS, when he saw me.

“Hey, what the hell?”

“Oh my God, Tounoin-san!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I rushed into the corridor -- which had become a mess -- to stop him. Kei
roughly pushed Igarashi aside, who was desperately trying to hold him back. His suitcase-sized
shoes were aiming to attack Yoshino. Knowing I would be immune, I slipped between the
Daimajin and his living sacrifice10; I felt bad for doing it, but I slapped his face — which was
expressionless even in his rage. Then I said as softly as I could, “Calm down, Kei. That’s
enough.”

His face was a Noh mask, with only the eyes revealing his bloody rage. He slowly lowered his
face to look at me as I stared up at him. I looked straight into his eyes and said, “I’m fine, it was
an accident, so let’s put an end to this. Okay?”

Slowly, Kei let out a breath. “...You hit me, didn’t you?” He said impassively.

“Yeah, sorry.” I apologized, and reached out my hand to his reddened cheek. I touched it with
my fingertips; everyone in Fujimi was looking at us from all sides, but right now Kei’s feelings
were what mattered the most. I gently placed my palm on the spot where my slap had hit.
“You’re a terrifying demon when you’re angry,” I said. “But if you destroy the Civic Center, we’ll
have nowhere to practice.”

Thankfully, Kei laughed at that. He shook my shoulder and grabbed my hand, gently removing it
from his cheek, “Okay, I’ll refrain from further vandalism.”

“Good,” I said, relieved. “And I’m sorry, but please apologize to Yoshino-san. It really wasn’t on
purpose, I just didn’t notice the stairs.”

“I can’t do that.” Kei retorted firmly. “Even if it was an accident, he has to accept part of the
responsibility for injuring my precious Concertmaster. There’s no need for me to apologize.”

I saw that one coming… I rubbed my head. But regardless of the reason, he still kicked a
member of the Civic Philharmonic, so…

“How is your leg? Oh, here? Does it hurt? It’s not broken, the bone seems fine. It’s nothing you
need for playing the violin.” After Eto-san quickly examined Yoshino, he pulled him to his feet in
a somewhat rough manner.

Yeah, it doesn’t seem to be a big deal. So if that’s the case, all we have to do is take care of
this… I went to look at my watch and — what? Did I leave my glasses behind? I managed to

10
Daimajin (Giant Demon God) is a stone warrior yokai from a series of 60s movies by the same name,
and several characters sacrifice themselves willingly to him.
make out the time and clapped my hands, “It’s nine o’clock, please clear out. Can someone call
me a cab? Yes, okay, thank you. Yoshino-san, I’ll have someone call you a cab as well, so
please feel free to take it home. The next rehearsal is Thursday, so if you could memorize the
Method. Oh, and if you haven’t paid your membership fee yet, please do so as soon as
possible. Well then, thank you for your trouble.”

“...Thank you.”11

We looked at each other, and slowly things started to get back into the usual flow. I watched as
the members prepared to leave and let out a sigh of relief, but then my knees relaxed and I felt
myself sway... “Oh~”

A strong arm caught me, and my head — which I realized had been pounding for some time
now — was cradled against the chest of the tall, supportive figure. “Yuuki…?”

I smiled at his worried whisper. “All my bumps… they just hurt…”

“Is that all?”

“If you had beaten Yoshino up for real it would have been a big problem, so I was just relieved…
and then I relaxed…”

“Honestly, you really are so…” I was hugged with a sigh. There were still some people around…
but I guess it’s okay because I’m injured… I really felt dizzy.

“Tounoin-san,” I heard Kawashima-san say from behind me. “I ordered two taxis for you.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Here’s a damp handkerchief, it’ll help cool you down.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll go get your violin. You can go downstairs.”

“Okay. And his glasses, please.”

“Oh, we still have to clean up…”

11
T/N: Both Yuuki and Yoshino say the phrase, “Otsukaresama deshita.” Which is kind of like “Thank you
for your hard work” or ‘You must be tired.” It’s a phrase usually said to people when leaving work, to
acknowledge the value of somebody’s hardship. It’s a bit funny in this context, considering what
happened — but I suppose they both went through a hardship! However, it’s not something easily
conveyed in English.
“Someone else will do it. Can you walk?” As we headed down the stairs, I felt like I was being
held more than just having a shoulder to lean on.

Nico-chan came after us, saying, “Tounoin-kun, I got a ride for you. Ito-chan called the ER at the
community hospital, just in case. He thought you should get a scan, Morimura-kun. Do you have
the money for it? Okay, thank you. Be careful.” I laughed at how exaggerated his reaction was,
and almost stepped off the stairs because I didn’t have my glasses on. Kei panicked and almost
picked me up again.

The results of the after-hours exam at the Emergency were: “No intracerebral hemorrhage, no
bleeding in the brain. Slight concussion.” So, they disinfected and bandaged the back of my
head and sent me off.

In the taxi on the way back to the apartment, Kei murmured sincerely, “I’m thankful...”

“Well, it’s my second time falling down the stairs, so I’m used to it now.” I may have been
injured, but I still felt good enough to get a jab at Kei in. I knew he was seriously worried about
me, but in this situation that was the punishment he deserved! Even if they weren’t bad, all my
injuries hurt! Okay, not everything… the bump on the back of my head actually didn’t hurt
anymore… I started to laugh...

That night I passed out in the bed in agony, and was reminded of my first time with him…

It was Thursday.

“I was worried about you,” Kawashima-san said, patting me on the back.

“You’re lucky it was your head,” Iida-san said in a consoling tone. “If you had broken a finger,
we’d have had to do a re-election.”

“Hey, that kind of bandage is sexy!” Igarashi-kun teased… you know, is that the kind of thing you
should say to a senior who owes you a favor? I felt a bit embarrassed because everybody had
witnessed the stairs incident and taken care of me.

Enough people had arrived, so I was just about to ask everybody to get in place to start the
method practice when the room fell silent. I turned around to look at the door, and Yoshino was
standing there. He spotted me and sauntered over.

“Hey,” He said, and smirked at the look on my face. “Should I have left the group,
Concertmaster?”
I hadn’t expected him to come back… I was really worried that he might have gone to the police
after everything that happened… I shrugged, “Fujimi’s philosophy is that if you want to come,
you can come. If you don’t want to, then you can quit. As you can see, we’re still a little short on
strings, so if you’d like to join us then you’re more than welcome.”

Yoshino eyed me carefully, then glanced around at the others who had gone back to their own
private practice. He said in a whisper, “Is it true that those people over there are from the
M-Kyo?” The look on his face was like a thief trying to figure out which person to steal from…
should I tell him?

“Yes, we have eleven people from there,” I said as nonchalantly as I could.

Yoshino’s eyes glittered, “Are they getting a little under the table?”

“If you’re insinuating that we pay them to be here, we don’t. They’re members who pay dues,
like everybody else.”

Yoshino seemed taken aback with an expression of “Huh…” and fidgeted nervously, nodding
absently a couple of times. “By the way…” he looked around again and whispered, “Do you ever
worry that you’ll lose your ability to hear properly?”

He meant my sense of sound, that my ability to distinguish correct pitch would erode if I kept
playing while surrounded by such bad intonation. I smiled at him, “Unfortunately, I didn’t start
playing violin until I was in the fourth grade, so my ear isn’t very precise. I’m working on
improving myself rather than worrying about things like that.”

“Hmm…” Yoshino’s brow wrinkled. “So, then, ah… Tounoin-kun is serious about this group, isn’t
he?”

“Yep.” I nodded firmly.

“I bet he’ll be conducting Fujimi thirty years from now,” he added.

“By then, we’ll be an orchestra worthy of his stick.”

“Huh…”

“So if you’re joining us, please sit in the firsts as you did before. The trumpet player is having
some trouble, so I have to go help him practice.” With that, I left Yoshino to continue my duties.
“Hi, Tashiro-san. I have some time today, so I wanted to take a look at the Method with you… I
was concerned about the connection of the phrases around this spot… yeah, that’s the one.
Can we try it together? I’ll give you two beats of pickup: three, four…”
The concertmaster, as a representative of the entire orchestra, is the one who shakes the
conductor’s hand in the concert. They are also respected as the leader of the ensemble, with
the authority that comes with that. However, that’s just the ‘fun side,’ and is only the tip of the
iceberg — especially with Fujimi. For example, I’m responsible for the people who need extra
help; the people who are section leaders still have to prioritize their jobs over rehearsal, and
those who are capable players but are still learning themselves can’t give guidance to the ones
who are struggling. In addition to that, the office work is run almost entirely by Nico-chan alone,
and because of his primary job he isn’t able to come to rehearsals very often. So it usually falls
on me to take charge of the music, personnel, venue management, equipment, and accounting.

But if I’m honest, I’m kind of a “DIY” type of person anyway.

If the batteries in the tuner run out, I’ll go out and get replacements.
If the conference room next door complains about noise, I’ll go apologize and explain the
situation.
Membership fees? Is the treasurer absent? I’ll take care of it.
Yonezawa-san is… oh, your string broke? If you don’t have a spare, I have one. Please return it
next time. What, it hurt you when it broke? Ahh, I wonder if anybody has a bandaid… anybody?!
You need a reminder on how to play something? Here, this is how your part goes… make sure
your timing is correct. Also, the notes here and here tend to be weak, don’t they? You should
listen for this note and that note in the chord. Yes, a piano is helpful for learning harmony. But
this is the sound I’m talking about. Yes, like that. Again? Okay, I’ll play it as many times as you
need me to.
Sorry, you wanted to see me. Yes, yes, is this it? Oh, this is about how fast Tounoin-san is
taking the andante, but you can go slower when practicing on your own. Then in rehearsal,
match his speed by watching the baton… you know, one-two-three-four, one-play-play play. If
you give yourself a count-off of one measure, you will be able to start on time.
Yes, yes, I’m coming!

When you think about it, it’s kind of ridiculous to allow yourself to take on a role like this…
especially if you didn’t know what the job would entail before accepting it. You’d have to be
either an idiot or exceptionally good-natured to do this for years and years — and if you actually
enjoy it, you’re definitely an idiot. But, I don’t think I’m an idiot; it’s a job that requires somebody
who’s an absolute fool for music, a fool for Fujimi. I’m sure that generations of concert musicians
have been proud to be that kind of person, and I’m proud as well.

But that’s not the only thing I’m in it for.

A tall, slender man walked quietly through the door, his head bent down so he wouldn’t hit the
frame with his head like he did that first time. Our prized permanent conductor spotted me with a
glance and gave a slight squint of his narrow eyes in greeting. Then he leaned against the wall
by the door, closed his eyes, and listened to us practice. Five minutes before the start of every
rehearsal, like clockwork; this is how he monitors our progress and then reflects it in his
conducting. He listens carefully and observes the smallest half-step or quarter-step forward that
we make, and adjusts his conducting to make the most of that improvement… or to offer a bit of
help if we are stuck on a step.

And I was his partner in this. To make sure that each hour of practice goes as smoothly as
possible, so that he can make as much progress as he can, I pay attention to everything and
take care of him, making sure everything is in order. This is the starting point of my job as
Fujimi’s Concertmaster. And when the orchestra is improving, Kei looks to me first, and he can
communicate his thoughts through his eyes alone.

(It sounds good, now the upbeat is coming in correctly.)

(The trumpet is getting better, isn’t it? Much better.)

I wordlessly return his gaze, and we share in what we’ve accomplished, even if it’s something
small. Perhaps this is even deeper than the pleasure of sex, this sense of blissful
accomplishment… as we walk in lockstep towards our next goal.

(Here we go, forte! Oh…)

(The trombone and bassoon failed, second violins aren’t doing so well either. Work on it in the
next part rehearsal.)

An orchestra is unhappy when it’s under the direction of a conductor they don’t like, and then
out of everybody the concertmaster will suffer the most. On the other hand, when the orchestra
enjoys working with a conductor, the concertmaster can still have a hard time. But in that case
the work isn’t unpleasant — actually, even if it’s difficult, it’s worthwhile work. That’s why I’m
happily off to rehearsal tonight.

“Ah, good evening. It’s really cold tonight, it’ll be problematic if your fingers are completely
numb. So if you need a hand warmer, I have some. Do you want me to lend you one? Yes, go
ahead, my hands are already warmed up.” I didn’t really want to let go of the warmth in my
pocket, but I had already offered. I still have some time to play my violin, and all of the
chair-carrying had taken the chill off of my body.

“Good evening. It’s cold, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, the heater hasn’t kicked on yet… yes, measure 22? Yeah, the one from Der Freischutz.
This part is fine if you count the rests that come before it. Yeah, here, if you listen to the eighth
notes that the violin plays — ‘ta-ra’— and then play yours in response… yeah, that’s right.
‘Ta-ra, ta. Ta-ra, ta.’ That’s it.”
Yoshino arrived before seven o’clock today. He said hello to me before sitting down in the seat
to the left of mine. Even though he literally stepped on my toes and got his ass kicked, he’s
somehow motivated to stay with us. From what I can tell, I guess he’s trying to make sure he
doesn’t miss out on any opportunities, or maybe trying to make a good investment in his future;
it seems that the fact that the M-Kyo members are here without being paid made a big
impression on him. He must have re-evaluated Kei’s value and calculated that he would benefit
from being attached to a young conductor who might eventually make a name for himself. It’s a
way of thinking I don’t understand, but if he really wants to stick around it’s not a bad thing. If
they play along well with us, it’s great to have more members who will improve the sound of the
orchestra…

The problem is that we have to put them in a proper placement… right now, we have an
irregular front row with three players lined up on their own stands. It’s a difficult choice to decide
whether to put Nitta-san or Yoshino in the second row. In terms of rank, Nitta-san from M-Kyo
would be in the first row, but with the way Fujimi is organized… we try to pair strong players with
weaker ones, so they can teach and support them. So, I’ll have Miyake-san next to me, Yoshino
in the second row with Yoshiko Suzuki-san, who seems like they’d be a good match. That
means Nitta-san would have to be moved back to the third row… but I’m sure she’ll understand
if I explain it to her. Maybe I could pair Goto-san or Kijima-san with her...hmmm…

“Fujimi-san!” I turned my head and answered the guard at the door. He said, “I’m looking for
whoever owns a red Honda Civic 8133, it needs to be moved.”

I nodded to him and cupped my hand to my mouth, “A red Civic! Who has it? A red Civic!
Please move your car!”

Yoshino put his violin down and stood up, looking rather irritated.

“Are you 8133? Sorry for the inconvenience.” Part of my job is to apologize for things that aren’t
my fault and help calm people down...if you really want this responsibility on your shoulders, you
can have it! But...I’m just kidding. I love my role as ‘Fujimi’s Concertmaster,’ because it’s like I’m
the sound post that supports the sound of the violin. It’s very rewarding to be the person that
works behind the scenes to make Fujimi — Kei’s ‘instrument’ — sound better. It also seems like
Yoshino has accepted me as the beastmaster here, so that’s good…

It was Monday morning. I was about to go out and continue my job search — which I had
completely forgotten about — when I found a sealed letter in my mailbox. I quickly opened it
when I saw the words ‘Board of Education’ printed on the front. Unfortunately it wasn’t a job
offer, but it did say, “Orchestra club leader wanted.” I wonder if there’s an audition for it? Hmm…
the monthly salary is 100,000 yen, who would pay that much just to teach a club activity?

‘Private Kobayakawa Gakuen Junior High School?’

I have no experience teaching junior high kids, but I decided to apply anyway. Of course, I really
needed a job with double that amount of money... but it’s okay for now, right?
Unfinished March
Kei caught a cold. I had teased him about having demonic stamina, but he went out to record a
radio program that he couldn’t cancel on, and when he finally came back home after nine
o’clock at night he was in bad shape. In the morning he had a slight fever, but later it had risen
by 8.4 degrees Celsius. His complexion was pale, but with an unnatural flush on his cheeks,
and it seemed like it was hard for him to even say ‘I’m home’ to me.

“Here’s your pajamas… you’d better change. Where’s your medicine? I bought a fever reducer,
let me get it for you. I don’t think you can eat, but I got some juice if you want some -- only if you
want it, though.”

I had heard on the news that there were a lot of class closures due to the flu epidemic, and it
seems that Kei also picked up the virus from somewhere. I leaned over Kei’s face as he laid
limp and breathing heavily -- quicker than his usual andante -- and prepared myself for an
all-nighter.

It was a chilly Wednesday in February.

My name is Yuuki Morimura. I’m a professional violinist who will be turning twenty-four on the
eleventh of this month. I’m currently the concertmaster of an amateur orchestra called Fujimi
Citizen Symphony Orchestra, but of course I don’t get paid for it (actually, I pay a membership
fee of 2,00012 yen per month), so it’s more of a hobby. As far as making a living, I’m working
hard to find a job… but I don’t lack for food, clothing, or shelter thanks to my generous
roommate. Ah… I have to admit, the name of the person I live with is Kei Tounoin. He’s
twenty-three years old and... a man. That’s right, I’m living with a guy. Is that bad? Unlike me
who was born with only mediocre talent, Kei is a musical genius who is instantly recognizable to
anybody who sees him. He’s a conductor, the person who swings a baton in the orchestra. He
really is quite unique in appearance: he’s an imposing 192cm tall, and even though he doesn’t
seem to exercise, his muscular frame is perfectly toned and defined like he was sculpted
according to the Golden Ratio — meaning he’s very well-proportioned. Even so, if he was
unattractive he’d just be another tall guy. But he has sharp good looks, a bit like Karajan when
he was young, so he always catches the eye of women just by existing. But I’m not in love with
his looks, honestly! In fact, the first time I met Kei, even though he was five pegs above
everyone else in appearance, I was offended by his demeanor. Then I was annoyed by his big,
confident attitude, and also by his undeniable musical genius.

For me, my relationship with Kei started out with jealousy and hostility. So why would I, who
wasn’t gay (actually back then I had a crush on Fujimi’s beautiful flutist, Natsuko Kawashima...),
be living with a gay man like Kei? Well… it’s a long story. But in any case, I love Kei Tounoin as
my one and only, so when he passes out like this — even if it’s just because of a cold — I feel
terribly unsettled. I can’t concentrate on the urgent memorizing I have to do because I’m so
12
2000 yen is around $20 USD / €15 / £13
worried. I know that he’s a man of great physical strength, so even if he has a very virulent flu
he’s not going to go down that easily. But I can’t help but wonder if he’s doing alright when his
breathing sounds so painful.

Suddenly, Kei opened his eyes. Normally they were cool, but now they were bloodshot from the
fever. “What are you doing?” He said in a weak voice. “It’s almost midnight, you should be in
bed.” Kei was still putting on his ‘poker face,’ which he rarely allowed to falter. He’s strong-willed
and stubborn, so he doesn’t like the idea of being nursed by me, even though I’m his boyfriend.

“I came to check on you, sorry I woke you up. I haven’t finished memorizing the music for the
audition yet.”

Kei closed his eyes in pain and said, “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sleep on the spare futon. I
don’t want to get you sick.”

“Yeah, I really don’t need that right now. Would you like some juice since you’re awake?”

“No.”

“The medicine doesn’t seem to be helping much. Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay… good night, then.”

I’ve never had the experience of caring for a sick person. Both of my parents died in ways that
were sudden: my father was killed in a car accident while he was out, and my mother had a
subarachnoid hemorrhage. I barely made it to my mother’s deathbed in time, but since both of
them died so unexpectedly I didn’t really have the chance to take care of them. So, I don’t know
much about nursing, but I do have a deep understanding of how incredibly short human life is.
Of course it’s silly to worry about something like that happening with Kei, but the healthier you
are, the harder illness can hit you… no, it’s not possible. It’s just a cold. Yeah, it’s just a cold,
and after a good night’s sleep he’ll be fine tomorrow.

But no matter how much I told myself that, when I closed my eyes I would see the ashen faces
of my parents, covered in a white cloth, over and over. I didn’t want to think about that feeling,
the pain of losing someone… I quietly slumped down at the foot of the bed, trying not to disturb
Kei’s shallow, painful sleep . When I got up to replace the wet towel that was cooling his burning
hot forehead, I was careful not to make even the slightest noise. I prayed and waited for the
morning, dozing off occasionally out of exhaustion as the hours went by… but even when the
long-awaited morning came, Kei’s condition hadn’t improved. I snuck out the front door to get a
drink at the convenience store, which was open even in the wee hours of the morning. I also
went back and forth from my apartment on the seventh floor to grab some stuff as fast as I
could, then crept back into the apartment like a thief. In the kitchen, I quietly cooked some rice
porridge and waited for Kei to wake up…

“Good morning,” he said with a smile.

I asked him, “How about some Pocari? I also made rice porridge.” When he told me he didn’t
want either, I scolded him and said he needed to at least drink some water. I took his
temperature, and… it was still 8.2 degrees higher than normal. I went through the phone book to
find the office number of the M-Kyo symphony, where Kei was the sub-conductor, so I could call
in sick for him.

“I’m sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing? Should I also get a doctor to make a house call?”

“No.”

“Yeah… if there’s anything you want, just ask. I’ve never taken care of anyone before, so you’ll
have to tell me.”

“Okay.”

I heard a bang at the front door; it was Ikushima-san and his friend. I hurried out.

“Hey, is there food?” I held up a finger to his bear face as he was about to bellow into the room.

“I’m sorry, Kei’s asleep. I’ll fix food for you in the kitchen downstairs.”

“He fell asleep? Him? Does he have AIDS or something?”

“It’s just a cold, that’s all. But his fever was really high, so I gave him some medicine and…”

“Hmph,” Ikushima-san is a pianist who has been living in my former apartment, Room D, with a
horn prodigy named Sora-kun. He pushed me aside with his massive body and walked into the
apartment as I stumbled after him to the bedside. “Oy, Tounoin, are you dying?”

Hey, hold on a minute… “Ah, this might not be a good idea…” Argh!

“Honey, don’t you have a change of clothes for him?”

“Ah...um…”

“You gotta change clothes when you sweat.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You’re giving him water, right?”

“Yeah. But he didn’t want much…”

“If he can talk with his mouth, then he can drink, right? Hey, Tounoin.”

“...Stop bothering Yuuki.” Apparently Kei, who had been asleep, woke up if teasing me was
involved.
“Kei, are you sick?” Sora-kun piped
up. When I first met him, I thought he
might have some sort of emotional
problem because of the perpetual
blank look on his face. But these days
he smiles a lot and laughs, and now
and then his regular expression
changes.

But now Sora’s face, which usually

looked too young and open for a
fourteen-year-old kid, had a concerned
look. “Mommy?” He said timidly;
according to Ikushima-san’s weird
nicknaming system, I’m ‘Mommy’
because I’m in charge of making food.
It’s okay though, I’m sure I’m acting as
both Sora’s personal tutor and his
mother. “Kei, are you dying?” I turned
around quickly, and Sora-kun shook
his head when I looked at him. “Well,
I’m sure he’s not going to die anytime
soon. Ah, my mom didn’t die so young either.”

I guess Sora-kun took care of his mother, too...

“It’s alright, Mommy. Look, Kei’s face is red, isn’t it? So he’s okay for now.”

“For now.” It wasn’t a…. comforting… consolation from Sora, but it did make me laugh, even if it
was still tinged with sadness, and that made me feel better.

“Let’s cook dinner ourselves. We’ll be downstairs today, so can you help me carry the
ingredients back?”
“Sure, I’ll do it,” Sora-kun said, putting his hand on my shoulder despite our 30cm height
difference. “I‘ll take care of Takane’s food because Mommy is worried about Kei,” he said with a
grown-up look, patted my shoulder, and walked into the kitchen. Ahaha…well... I scratched my
head and followed Ikushima-san, who was trailing after Sora-kun.

“Ah…”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve... never really taken care of a sick person before. So... I need to change his pajamas, make
sure he drinks enough water… is there anything else I should know? Should I call a doctor? Kei
said he didn’t need one, though.”

“If he says he doesn’t want one, then he doesn’t want one. It’s not like he’s a baby or an old
person. And, you can get over a cold just by sleeping.” With that, Ikushima-san grabbed
everything he could out of the fridge, gave Sora-kun a bag of rice to carry, and they went back
downstairs.

“Okay...” Kei’s pajamas had absorbed so much sweat that I could almost wring them out. I
offered my hand to sit him up so I could help him undress, then re-hydrated his face towel with
ice water. Then it was just a matter of waiting.

Come to think of it, I’ve given Kei a lot of trouble, haven’t I? Like after the ‘incident’... He
watched over me as I slept for a day and a night because I was so battered after running away
and falling down the stairs in a panic. I wonder how Kei felt then. I’m sure it was a lot of
pressure for him, since he was so madly in love with me that he forced me to do…’that.’ When I
woke up and saw Kei’s exhausted face, all I could think was ‘It serves you right!’… Well, at the
time, there was no other way I could feel. Even when my apartment burned down and all of
Fujimi had deserted me in the middle of the summer, Kei took care of me. Thinking about it now,
he could have just thrown me in a hospital and not gone to any trouble, but he took care of me
himself. And at that time I had not the least intention of responding to his feelings, so no matter
how nice he was to me, it was likely to be all for nothing. But that’s what made me attracted to
him, right?

‘I’ve received a lot of sincere kindness from you, Kei. You’ve always given to me, so now it’s my
turn to give back to you. I want to love you as much as you love me. Although there’s not much I
can offer, because you’re still more mature and bigger than me. But I will do anything. I love
you…’

I was a little relieved to see Kei wake up briefly and take a few stealthy gulps of the Pocari from
the chair that was acting as a table next to the bed...My unwarranted obsession with distracting
myself made me anxious to the point where I couldn’t even lie down. So I got my score and
spread it on my lap, but I couldn’t seem to focus on preparing for the job audition that’s coming
up next week.
“Hnnn…” Kei woke up again. I looked at the clock and resumed my watch; I think it’s time to
change his pajamas again.

“How are you doing?” I peeked at him and put my hand on his forehead. It felt hot and dry.

“We should see a doctor. What about the one that said he was your uncle… what was his
name?” Kei looked up at me sluggishly and furrowed his eyebrows, which were already a
naturally determined shape.

“Didn’t you sleep?”

“Me? I did, yes.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying. Do you want to change your pajamas?”

“No.”

“Do you want something to eat?”

“No.”

“Then call me if you need me.” I sat down on the other side of the bed, out of Kei’s sight. I
flipped through the score, making the sound deliberately loud so that Kei would think I was
working on my memorization.

“I… understand,” Kei’s voice said with a sigh. “It’s the Shigeto Clinic. At Kasane and Hana no
Fuji.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s better than letting you fall down from exhaustion. You haven’t slept a wink since last night,
have you?”

He knew… “Sorry.”

“If you care about me as much as I care about you, I’d rather just have you watch over me.”

“Yeah…”

“But, I don’t want you to catch a cold right before your big audition.”
“No, no, no, it’s just that you seemed annoyed.”

“I did?”

“Were you?”

“Ahh… I just want you to be here with me right now.”

“Okay.” I moved to where Kei could reach me and sat back down on the floor.

“How’s the memorization going?”

I smiled at Kei, whose cheeks were flushed from the fever, “Don’t worry about that. I’ve never
taken care of somebody, so at first I didn’t know what to do, but now I’m starting to get the hang
of it. I’m here, so you can ask me for whatever you need, but we can talk when you’re better. I
hope you start feeling better soon…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“That’s not it, I’m just… worried and I can’t relax.”

“Yuuki…” I looked up at his sighing whisper and wondered if I was seeing things; Kei was
smiling happily.

“What’s so funny?” I pouted.

“You should try getting sick.”

“Uh-huh. What was the doctor's office called, Shigeto Clinic?”

“My uncle and my mother talk. There’s a chance my mother might come over.”

Oh no… “Well, that’s a mother’s right.” With that I pulled out the Hello Pages from under the
bed. It’s true that I don’t feel comfortable with Kei’s mother coming here, but… I guess there’s
no time like the present.

“Hmm… is this one it? Is it even in here?”

“Do you really want to call them?” Kei asked curiously.

“You need to see a doctor,” I replied.

He sighed and turned over, then said quietly, “You won’t find it in that phone book. It’s in Hachioji
City.”
“Argh, why didn’t you say that in the first place?!”

When I called, I was told that Thursday’s clinic hours were only in the morning, so we didn’t
have to wait more than an hour for Dr. Shigeto. I had met him once before last summer, when I
became a refugee after my apartment burned down and I had fallen ill in front of this apartment.
Dr. Shigeto was the one who treated me when I was dehydrated with heatstroke, but I didn’t
really remember what he looked like since we had only met once and I was out of it. But he
seemed to recognize me.

“Hi,” he said curtly. “Is my nephew awake?” He asked as he took off his shoes at the door.

“Huh? No, but he’s still coughing,” I replied. “Does he have a chronic condition?”

“He did when he was a kid.”

Kei had a chronic cough when he was younger? I can’t imagine…

The doctor quickly examined him, then gave him two painful injections and some glucose. “That
should lower his temperature. Also, you should turn the thermostat down, you have the heat up
too high. Don’t turn it up more than 20 degrees, and make sure to ventilate frequently. Also, it’s
pretty dry in here, do you have a humidifier?”

“Yuuki, humidity isn’t good for the violin13. I don’t need it,” Kei said from his pillow.

“It’s in the case, so it’s fine,” I said. “Doctor, I’ll make some coffee if you’d like.”

“Oh, thank you.” I motioned for him to come into the kitchen, where I pulled out a chair for him
and started making coffee, measuring the beans into the grinder. “It’s Morimura-kun, right?” He
asked.

I nodded, “I’m Yuuki Morimura, the concertmaster of the Fujimi Citizen Symphony Orchestra,
which Tounoin-san is the resident conductor of. Um, not the Citizen Philharmonic Orchestra
though, ours is the one in 2-Chome...”

“I got to hear your concert in November. It was a good solo,” I turned around at the unexpected
reply.

“You were there? I… didn’t know.”

“Kei is my favorite nephew.”

13
T/N: humidity is actually good for violins and dryness is bad, so either Kei is wrong or Akizuki is...
When I looked at Dr. Shigeto, not only was his voice similar to Kei’s, but his face also resembled
his a little, mostly in the shape of his lips and eyebrows. But more than that was the similarity of
the impression he gave; his unsociable manner and vaguely arrogant attitude were exactly like
my first encounter with Kei. But unlike Kei, whose poker face extended even to the cold look in
his eyes, Dr. Shigeto’s eyes were warm.

“We all respect Tounoin-san for his wonderful musicianship. He is also a very serious person; at
first I thought he was older than me.”

“He was an unpretentious kid, too,” He took a pack of cigarettes out of the breast pocket of his
jacket. “Do you mind?”

“Sure, go ahead,” I replied, searching through the cupboard. I pulled out a small plate that we
didn’t usually use and offered it as an ashtray, “Sorry, Tounoin-san and I don’t smoke, so we
don’t have an ashtray.” I said it without thinking, which would imply that we both lived here.

“It’s good to be healthy,” Dr. Shigeto said as he exhaled a plume of smoke. “Oh, can you turn on
the fan?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m used to it from work.”

“No, as a doctor I don’t want to affect your healthy body with my secondhand smoke.”

I laughed in spite of myself, since it didn’t make sense to worry about something like that. “By
the way, does he have the flu?” I asked, since it had been bothering me not knowing what Kei
had.

“Looks like it,” the doctor replied.

“How should I treat him?”

“Just like a normal cold.”

“So…”

“Rest, nutrition, and proper medication. It’s not as bad as the flu last year. Just let him sleep and
he’ll recover on his own.” I smiled awkwardly, feeling embarrassed because it felt like he was
saying I worried too much, like Kei was an old person.

“I’ve been taken care of, but I’ve never taken care of another person. Also, Tounoin-san is the
kind of person who seems invincible, so when he’s so completely exhausted it worries me.”

Dr. Shigeto pointed at me, “It looks like it’s done?”

“Huh?”

“The coffee.”

“Oh, s-sorry.” I thought I heard a chuckle, but it was probably my imagination. I poured a cup of
coffee, served it with sugar and milk, and said, “Please excuse me, I’m going to go to my
apartment, so please make yourself at home. Um, it’s just downstairs, so I’ll bring my electric hot
plate. I always use this place for practice, but I’ve never seen a humidifier here, so I thought I
could substitute with a kettle or something on a hot plate.” Dr. Shigeto seemed to have taken my
explanation at face value, which I felt provided an excuse for taking care of Kei. Feeling half
relieved, I left the kitchen, tiptoed through the living room and snuck out the front door.
Ikushima-san should still be in the apartment now, right? Otherwise… I didn’t have a key. Oh,
and today is a rehearsal day for Fujimi, right? What should I do about that?

“Can I ask you to stand in for me tonight?” Said Kei, laying in bed eating the rice porridge I had
made, while next to him an intensely boiling kettle was raising the humidity.

“Sure…” I replied. It was true that the people that came to rehearsal would be very disappointed
if both the conductor and concertmaster were absent. But I didn’t feel comfortable leaving him
by himself. Kei held out his empty bowl, “You want more?”

“Yeah. Your rice porridge is delicious.” I was deeply relieved. At this rate, it seemed like it would
be okay to go and perform my duties as the concertmaster… so I guess I have to go?

“Please use my baton.”

“You want me to conduct?”

“It’ll be good practice for you to brush up on your conducting skills.” Kei was referring to the
audition I had coming up next week, since the job I was applying for was as a conductor. But it’s
for a junior high school orchestra, as the leader of the club activities from four o’clock to six
o’clock on weekdays, for 100,000 yen a month. It’s not a bad job at a little over 2,000 yen an
hour, but that’s not enough to make a living, so I’ll have to find something else besides.

“If there’s something you want to eat, I can pick it up on the way home.”

As I spoke, Kei put down his chopsticks, “Thanks for the food.”

“I’m glad you were able to eat.”

Kei grinned as I took his bowl and gave him some water so he could take his medicine. “You’re
a mommy after all.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It means I’m glad.”

“I never thought I’d have to take care of such a big son.”

“Oh, that’s cold!”

We both knew we were joking. He grasped my hand as he took the refilled bowl I handed him. I
bent down and kissed Kei on the lips, which still tasted faintly of medicine.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“I already have it. It’s airborne, after all.”

“I guess it’s too late to be shy now, right?” We kissed again for the first time in forty-eight hours.
He had his appetite back, but his mouth was still feverish.

“Okay, I have to go. You should go back to bed.”

“Yeah, I will. Please take care of the rehearsal.” Thanks to Dr. Shigeto’s treatment, Kei seemed
to be much better, but he still wasn’t fully recovered. I still felt a tug to stay with him, but I
headed out to Fujimi’s practice.

In the past, the conductor was simply the person who gave the “ready” signal for the ensemble
when they performed. In German this is called the einsatz, and it essentially sets the tempo for
the group, so the concertmaster frequently served as the conductor as well. According to some
accounts, Johann Strauss conducted his own waltzes from the violin because that was the norm
for the time. Later, however, the variety of instruments and orchestration became larger, and the
pieces more complex in terms of scoring. In order for an orchestra of sixty to a hundred people
to perform a symphony or a grand opera, a specialized baton-wielding role became necessary,
and the profession of the conductor was born.

In the Fujimi Orchestra that I’m the concertmaster of, there are a total of fifty-three members.
Eleven of them are professional musicians, but the rest are amateurs. But for a long time before
Kei was appointed the permanent conductor, we often had to play without one, so they are used
to playing with my count off of “Ready, two, three, go!” So that day I felt the need to explain why
I was standing on the podium; just because the conductor was out sick wasn’t a good enough
reason for me to be using a baton and formally conducting.
“Ah, excuse me!” I shouted to the people who were still practicing their parts. “Excuse me,
please listen!” Everyone quieted down immediately. “Um, I have some news and a favor to ask,
so please hear me out. First of all, Tounoin-san will not be attending tonight. It seems that he
caught a cold and will probably be absent until the next meeting.”

People began to exchange opinions about this year’s flu virus, looking at each other in
confusion.

“Um, so...!” I raised my voice again to bring everyone’s attention back to me. “So it’s not so
much to fill in, but for a more personal reason, that I’d like to ask you to let me take the place of
Tounoin-san tonight. Well, I mean… to allow me to conduct.” I don’t think they’d mind, but… I
still feel like I should explain the situation.

“Actually, I’m applying for a job right now, and I have an audition for it next week. It’s the position
of orchestra leader for a junior high school. It may sound strange to say this, but since
Tounoin-san is absent, I would be very grateful if you would let me conduct tonight. Would that
be alright?”

“We’ll be happy to help you, concertmaster!” Kawashima-san, the flute part leader, said in a
matter-of-fact voice.

“I’ll teach you how to swing it,” Igarashi-kun, the student cellist, said with a proud look on his
face.

“Which junior high is it?” Yoshino-san asked suddenly, looking like a kitsune poking its face out.
He was a newcomer to our group, but a veteran player from the Citizen Philharmonic Orchestra;
our Fujimi is also a civic orchestra, but it’s the ‘original’ (though both of the ensembles have the
same official name, Fujimi Citizen Symphony Orchestra). He was a somewhat unusual member,
as he’s a junior in our first violin section, but a senior in the other group.

“It’s a private school, Kobayakawa Academy,” I answered.

Yoshino-san shook his head knowingly, “Well, you’re not going to get it unless you practice a lot.
That school specializes in early arts education, and they have music courses starting at the
elementary school level. The middle school orchestra has participated in the national
competition every year, and they’ve won the gold medal for the last three years in a row.” Since
Yoshino-san loves competitions, he would know that kind of stuff which I was clueless about.
“Are you unemployed right now?”

“Yeah, actually.” I scratched my head awkwardly, “I’ve applied for several temporary positions,
but the prospects are bleak.”
“If you get accepted by Kobayakawa, you should turn down any other offers. There are many
influential people in the PTA there, and it’s not unusual for them to become patrons of
up-and-coming musicians.”

“I’m not really aiming for that kind of thing, but…” Yoshino-san isn’t a bad person when you get
to know him, but his way of thinking and values are a bit at odds with mine. “If I get a job, I just
want it to be in music. So, anyway, is it okay for me to conduct?”

“The orchestra’s job is to train you how to swing the baton. So let’s get started,” said Iida-san
from the M-Kyo decisively.

“Let’s start with Method 1. Well, before that, we haven’t tuned, have we?” As I went to get my
violin, Yoshino-san stood up quickly and inserted himself as the substitute concertmaster. The
oboe player, Kaizuka-san, played the tuning A, and Yoshino-san checked his own pitch and then
led the group; the Fujimi way of organically working together was in effect. “Okay, so I’m going
to start now, but please treat this as a normal practice. And um, bear with me, since the
difference between my conducting and Tounoin-san’s is like heaven and earth. I’d appreciate it if
you could give me some feedback or criticism on the rehearsal afterwards. Of course, if it’s
really bad you can go ahead and tell me during the rehearsal.”

“Concertmaster,” Ichiyama-san called out to me, “We’re just here for fun, to enjoy the orchestra,
so don’t worry about us. It’s not like this is a dress rehearsal, and since it’s for your work we’re
more than happy to be your practice partners.”

“It’ll be more efficient if we focus on a specific goal,” interrupted Nobuhara, another cellist from
the M-Kyo. “I can give you a lot of advice; I’m a pro at pointing out problems with conductors.”

“That’s okay and all, but if you bully him too much Morimura-san will get discouraged, so please
go easy on him.” Everyone burst out laughing at Haruyama-san’s request, which seemed like
she was genuinely concerned.

I laughed too, “I can’t learn what I don’t know, so I have to accept it. I’ll do my best not to cry, so
you can tell me whatever you want. Anyway, thank you all very much. Method 1.” I held the
baton I borrowed from Kei in front of my chest, made the ‘three, four’ pickup gesture and
brought it down... I didn’t get the result I expected.

“Excuse me, stop!”

I stopped the orchestra and said, “You don’t have to say ‘Excuse me.’”

“You must be clear and precise with your initial motion,” someone said.

“Especially for the ‘one,’ the downbeat,” another person said quickly.
“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s try it once without stopping. We can’t move forward if we start in on every
little thing.”

“Ok, ok.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

Ha, I really am the student. “Okay, let’s go.”

The rehearsal with one student and fifty teachers was difficult enough to make my head
explode, what with all the orders and opinions, big and small. The score I had memorized
quickly became a jumbled mess of writing, and I had to take a break to sort it out. There
seemed to be three major problems I had to fix as soon as possible:

The first was my habit of keeping my elbows too tight, which made my arms and upper body
look stiff, and bothered them to look at.

The second was that I didn’t have a variety of conducting motions. The basic technique of
conducting, where you just vary the size of the stroke so that smaller motions are piano and
larger motions are forte, would not be enough for Kobayakawa. Even if it’s just a forte, you have
to be able to indicate if you want a heavy forte, or a dramatic forte, and you have to be able to
conduct at different heights: shoulder, chest or waist. And naturally you also have to be able to
make different shapes with the baton, at a consistent speed, in order to convey the tempo and
the musical ideas that you want.

The third was that I explained myself too much. I was told that if I had to use words to say what I
wanted, then there was no need to look at the baton, and that made me a bad conductor.

During the ten-minute break I hurried to summarize the comments from the first part before we
started the second half. I discovered that some of my habits and untrained muscle stiffness
were not something I could do anything about right away. But for the other points, I learned a lot
of specific things to check for when conducting.

“You know enough about orchestra to get the hang of it, but now you just need to train yourself
to become a performer.”

“Yes.”

“Your job as a conductor is to be watched, so you have to show more and be more
demonstrative. Your expression will be what leads the orchestra, so don’t be shy.”

“Ah.”

“You should try conducting in front of a mirror. That way you can also check your elbow tension.”
“Okay.”

“Ask Tounoin-kun to take the next rehearsal off, too. If you’re going to be auditioning, I want you
to pass it.”

“Thank you very much.” After receiving homework and encouragement, my conducting lesson
for the day was over. But once I finished, I remembered that Kei was at home all alone in bed! I
hurried to clean up and left the rehearsal room quickly.

I thought he would be asleep, but he was in bed reading a score. He smiled and said, “Welcome
home.” The medicine seemed to have taken effect, as his face looked much better. “Did you get
a chance to practice your conducting?”

“Ahhh, they punished me a lot. Waving a baton is really hard, isn’t it? I’d rather just play the
violin and watch the stick.”

“I’m sure that was tiring. I thought I’d make you some coffee.”

“No, don’t do that. You’re just feeling the medication kick in. Do you want some hot milk?”

“Actually I’ve been wanting a cup of tea with some brandy for a while.”

“Okay.” I was about to go and make it when I heard a cough, and looked back. Kei had a
coughing fit and I hurried back over to him. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yeah,” the reply was interrupted by another cough.

“I heard that you had a chronic cough?”

“That was when I was a kid. This is just a regular cough.”

“This year’s cold is either a persistent cough or a stomach bug. I’m glad it’s not your stomach.”

“I’d rather go back to Seijo than have you see me going to the bathroom holding my stomach,”
Kei said with a rueful smile.

“So I guess if I catch a cold, I’ll have to go back to Niigata, too.”

“No, I won’t let you do that. I’ll take care of you.”

“No, no, no, I don’t want you to see me looking gross, either.” As we were talking, I noticed that
Kei was really sweaty. “Do you want me to wipe your body down?”
“Do I smell?”

“That’s not a problem, but you’ve been sweating a lot. You don’t feel bad?”

“I guess I should wipe my face off.”

“Yeah. I’ll prepare a towel.” Kei’s voice didn’t have its usual luster because of the infection in his
throat, but he certainly seemed to be feeling much better, so I went to make him a warm towel
and get something to wrap around his neck. I wondered what was in the throat poultice my
grandma used to give me... I think it was some kind of charred stuff, but… well, I can’t
remember. A bowl of hot water, a hand towel, and a bath towel will have to suffice.
I put them together beside the bed and said, “Okay, let’s start with your face.”

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.”

“Okay, I can wipe your back.”

“Sorry.” As I watched him scrub his face, I noticed that his stubble had grown out. I’d never seen
Kei with facial hair… well, not exactly. I had seen it like that once before, when we had our
first… unfortunate… 'close encounter.' I had panicked, ran out of the apartment, and fell down
the stairs. Then Kei nursed me back to health — probably without thinking of anything else —
and with the stubble on his gaunt face, he looked like a different person. At the time I thought he
was putting on an act… I realized I was staring at him.

He frowned at me, “What is it?”

“No, nothing, it’s just the beard.”

“Is it ugly?”

“Not really. I think it would look good if you weren’t coughing and apologizing.” In response, Kei
frowned and rubbed his chin with his hand. The gesture and the look on his face made him look
very manly… of course he always looks manly, unlike me, but somehow… It made him look so
different.

“It’s too long. Can you bring me a razor?”

“No, no, don’t strain yourself yet. And it hurts to shave when your skin’s hot.”

“I don’t look good with a beard.”

“That’s not true at all. Here, I’ll give you a towel to rinse off.” He took the towel and wiped his
face. “Why don’t we wipe your body off while you’re at it? I’ll get you a change of clothes.”
The first thing I saw when I came back from the cabin was Kei, naked from the waist up on the
bed. I was used to seeing Kei naked, but my heart suddenly started to pound. Lust… once I
realized it, I couldn’t look at Kei’s body directly. Even though we were physical all the time...

“Here are your pajamas and pants. I’m going to go make some tea.” I used that as an excuse to
run into the kitchen. But while I was putting the pot on the stove, I started to feel like I had done
something wrong. I told him I would wipe his back, but… I hesitated, and thought about it. I was
still concerned, so I went back into the studio and asked, “Um, so, do you want me to wipe your
back?”

“No.”

But I had made up my mind. “Here, give me that.” I took the towel and gave it a squeeze. Kei’s
large back was more muscular than I realized. “I thought conducting was just a matter of waving
a little baton that’s lighter than chopsticks, but I guess you have to do some muscle training,” I
said to him as I used the towel. “I learned today that you have to be flexible and develop quick
reflexes to make a crisp beat.”

“You don’t need to build muscle strength,” Kei answered, facing away from me. “Except for the
muscles that naturally develop from waving the baton.”

“Hmm.”

“If you work out too much, you’ll end up with big bunchy muscles. The secret of conducting,
however, is to relax.”

“Oh... I see…”

“It’s difficult to do, actually. Even for me.” As he said that, he raised his right arm and flexed it.
His muscles jutted out… on that arm that could easily pick me up…

“This is the muscle I use when conducting with strength. This muscle on my forearm is the
secret.”

I averted my eyes from the sight of Kei’s beautiful arms and said, “Ha ha, I don’t have any
muscles, but I was told that my elbows were stiff and strained. That they were too tight.”

“It’s just a habit. You can fix that right away.”

“Yeah, I was told to practice by looking in the mirror.”

“I look in the window.”

“Oh, so you don’t have blinds?”

“Really, I don’t like curtains or blinds because I find enclosed spaces annoying.”

“Hmm, I see.” I dried off his back with the bath towel and put his pajamas on. “Ok, that’s good.
I’ll get you some tea.”

He grabbed my hand as I was about to go. “The tea can wait,” his hoarse voice said.

I felt my ears start to go red and gently removed his hand, “When you’re fully recovered.”

“I’m already better, right?”

“But you still have a fever!” Kei, with his scruffy face and muffled voice, was like a handsome
stranger, and even though I should have been used to having sex with him by now, I was oddly
flustered.

“But I want you,” He forcefully pulled me into his chest, and I felt his stubble rub the nape of my
neck. I had a strange urge to fight back. “I want you, I can’t stand it!”

“Not yet, Kei.”

“I’m fine,” he said, and sure enough Kei easily pushed me down and began to strip my clothes
off; you’d never know he had a high fever earlier that day.

“Ah, wait, let me take a bath first.”

“But we’re even right now.”

“Kei, stop it! Ahh!” Even though it was the usual situation, I felt really embarrassed. But I
couldn’t really resist when dealing with a sick person. Kei went about his usual way of riling me
up, but this time being at the mercy of his enthusiasm felt different, somehow.

“I’m sorry, I’m pushing you too hard when you’re tired,” he whispered to me, and brushed his
fingers lazily through my bangs that they forgot to trim at the barber.

“If anyone should be overwhelmed, it’s you.”

“Did I make you upset…?”

“I was upset… well, not really upset...” I smiled to comfort him, and decided to be
straightforward. “I don’t know… with the stubble you don’t look like your usual self…”

“Is that what bothered you?”

“...I got embarrassed.”

“Oh… I see,” he was grinning. “That just means we’re ‘keeping it fresh’, Yuuki. But, I guess that
also means we’ve fallen into a bit of a rut, right? I’ll have to do some research…”

“Jeez, you don’t have to do that, especially right now. You should go to bed, you’re a sick man.”

Kei laughed, “Maybe I’ll let it grow.”

“What?”

“My mustache.”

“Are you serious? A mustache… come on, you’re intimidating enough as it is. No one will come
within a meter of you.”

“I only want you to come within a meter of me,” Kei’s hand came up to stroke my still-sensitive
nipple.

“No more of that, we’re done for tonight.” I moved his hand away and gave him my arm to lay on
instead. Hesitantly, I kissed him on the cheek. “Good night… hurry up and get rid of that cold.”

He looked up at me and grinned like a kid; five minutes later Kei was sleeping comfortably on
my arm, and didn’t wake up even when I gently slipped out of bed, after noticing a burning
smell. The cause was the pot of water that I had left on the gas range, which had completely
boiled dry. I rushed to open the lid and burnt my fingers on the knob. The porcelain on the
bottom of the pot had cracked so badly that it would be unusable. Ahh… oh well.

“When you’re preparing to conduct a piece, the first thing you have to do is develop an image of
what you want it to sound like. To do that, you have to read the score and understand the
meaning and position of every single note.”

I stared at the ceiling and asked him if I should memorize it? Then I looked back at Tounoin,
who was in teacher mode. He nodded, and set down the cup he had just poured his after-dinner
medicine into.

“Okay. I think you just need some hands-on guidance.”

“You’re really going to come tonight?” I tried to protest indirectly, and Kei coughed as he tried to
answer me. I got up from the table. “I don’t think you should go out at night yet, it’s cold.” He had
missed work on Friday, then yesterday, and he had left in the morning today but came back
before noon. So I didn’t think he was in any condition to go to Fujimi's rehearsal yet.
“I’m fine. But — cough, cough — I just couldn’t stop coughing, so I left early. It was interfering
with the rehearsal.” Kei is the type of person who won’t be deterred when he’s decided on
something. His tall body bent over coughing as he put on the mask I bought him, wrapped a
scarf around his neck, put on his trench coat, tied his belt, and walked out the door.

“Argh, if your cold gets worse I’m not gonna take care of you,” I muttered and hurriedly put on
my coat, grabbed my violin case from the shelf, and followed Kei out the door. “Brr… it’s so
cold!” Even though Echigo winters will bury you under roof-high snow and freezing
temperatures, the winters in Kanto are also plenty cold, with the incessant dry, chilling wind.
Maybe it’s the lack of snow that makes it somehow harder to deal with. I scrunched up the collar
of my coat as I went down the stairs with Kei.

My parents’ house is in Niigata, but that’s pretty close to the Yamagata prefecture, and is rather
close to Bandai Asahi National Park. Thanks to the topography of the area, which opens up
towards the Sea of Japan against a backdrop of the Asahi mountains, the annual snowfall is
one of the highest in Japan. We envy the powdery snow of Hokkaido; ours is frequently so
heavy and icy that it can actually cave in the roof of your house if you don’t remove it in time.
December is when it starts snowing, but the peak of the season is around this time in February.
My sister Fumiko and brother-in-law Morisada must be having a hard time clearing it off every
time there was a snowstorm; it would be nice if my nephew Junichiro and his friends would help
out, but the kids today don’t seem to want to help their parents much…

When I was young, the first thing I did in the morning was shovel snow. That was mine and my
father’s job, to clear the 20-meter wall of snow on the path to the road in front of our house, and
after he passed away I took the job on by myself. The first thing I did when I came home from
school was check to see if more snow had accumulated on the roof, and help my mother unload
any she couldn’t get down by herself… Then going to my lessons during the winter, when I
couldn’t ride my bike, was like a cross-country race. The fifteen-minute trek to the bus stop — of
which there weren’t many buses out that far to begin with — took me downhill on skis with my
violin case strapped to my back, and was really time-consuming. I would leave my skis at the
tobacco shop next to the bus stop. When I was on the way back, which was all uphill, I would
drag my skis and sweat profusely…

“What is it?” Kei asked, his voice muffled by the mask.

“Huh?” I turned to him, and he was looking down at me.

“Were you laughing at me?”

“Ah, did I laugh?”

“I know it’s awkward because I’m usually not the one to get sick.”
“That’s not what it was… I was just remembering winter in the countryside, when there was
snow everywhere and I had to cross-country ski to get to my lessons. I would carry my violin on
my back and ski to the bus stop and back. It was easy on the way over because it was downhill,
but then on the way back I’d have to push and push with the skis uphill. Even so, I made the
effort twice a week…”

“So I guess you’re good at skiing, then?”

He seemed to be impressed, but I shook my head, “It’s not like I did it properly, I just used
kanjiki14. There weren’t any decent slopes nearby, anyway. Though there was a classmate of
mine in junior high who said he was going to compete in the Olympics… he was really good, I
wonder what happened to him.”

“Maybe we should go there during the season.”

“Go skiing?”

“Isn’t there somewhere near your parents’ house?”

“Hmm…. the closest ski resort is around Tainai. I never went, but that’s where the locals go.”

“Would you like to do that?”

“Do you like to ski?”

“I’m interested in knowing more about where you grew up.”

“It’s just the countryside...”

“Do you not like it?”

“Not really, no… it just wasn’t a good place for music,” I pushed my glasses up with my
fingertips. “Even though I’m the eldest son, I was selfish and forced my sister to stay in the
house15, so I don’t really feel comfortable going back to visit her.”

“Your calling was to be a violinist,” Kei said, trying to ease my long-standing guilt. “What do you
think about going home to give a recital as a sort of homecoming gift?”

“Give an obscure recital in an elementary school gym?”

“I would like to see the place you’re from.”

14
Kanjiki are a traditional type of Japanese bamboo snowshoes.
15
Traditionally the eldest son would inherit everything from the parents, but Yuuki wanted to be a
musician so he passed it to his sister.
I smiled at the pleading tone of his voice, “When you get over your cold, and if I get a job and
have vacation time.”

“Well, that would be during spring break.”

“Ahh, I’ll think about it.” Kei had another coughing fit, “Are you okay? You shouldn’t push
yourself.”

He shook his head sternly and pushed the front door of the Civic Center open. I’m glad he was
willing to let me use Fujimi for my own practice and all, but…

“Excuse me,” Kei walked around behind me. “Relax your arms,” he said, placing his hand on my
shoulder. “It’s still tight, relax.”

I tried to swallow my nervousness and concentrate on letting my arms relax, but the idea of
being touched from behind like this, in front of everyone in Fujimi...

“Just concentrate on relaxing, please.” Kei’s baritone said over my head, and he grabbed my
right wrist. I focused on being a marionette and tried to keep myself from turning red at any
moment. Kei’s hand slowly lifted my arm, then let go. I let my arm fall with gravity and it slapped
against my thigh. “Very good. This is the state of complete weakness. In martial arts, this kind of
relaxed state is called the ‘natural body’ and is a basic and essential skill. It is difficult to master,
but if you always keep in mind not to use unnecessary force, you will be able to do it naturally.”

As he spoke — with the hint of a cold and the occasional cough in his voice — he must have
motioned for everybody to prepare to play, as everyone took up their instruments. When he
said, “Stand by, please,” I also put my arms up, my right hand holding the baton and the left
hand supporting it.

“There, it’s already working better.” Kei, who was still snug against my back, grabbed my
shoulders with both hands. Uff… okay, okay, I have to relax there. He slid his hands along my
arms from the shoulders to the elbows like he was petting me. “You have too much tension in
your elbows. Relax more, yes, like that.” Then they continued down until he was grasping both
of my hands in his own. “Then, let’s go. Three, four.”

Kei was the puppeteer and I was the puppet. Of course it was something that shouldn’t make
me embarrassed or feel nervous — he was just holding my hands to teach me how to conduct
— but I had to desperately prevent myself from blushing. I was struggling to keep my mind off
‘that’ and focus on the actual conducting technique that Kei was trying to teach me.
He whispered, “Concentrate,” and I felt the blood rush to my ears. “You’re still stiff,” he said in a
voice loud enough that everyone could hear, and I doubled down on my effort to swallow my
nerves. It’s a lesson, it’s a lesson, it’s a lesson…

“OK, OK, stop.” I breathed a sigh of relief when Kei let go of my hands, stopping the orchestra.
“Do you have a general idea of what to do now?”

“Yes, more or less.”

“Let’s go from the top, then.” I waited for Kei to return to his teacher’s seat and sit, then held up
the baton for the hundredth time.

I thought to myself, ‘Relax your arms. The upbeat should be clear, but start out pianissimo. But
then bring the strings up to forte with a rapid crescendo! Then drop to a piano immediately. After
the quarter rest, start pianissimo again. One, two, three, four, ta-rarara! Ta-ra-ra-ra.’ The
overture to Der Freischutz, which we had been practicing in Fujimi, was also conveniently the
audition piece. I wondered how the junior high school orchestra at Kobayakawa was doing with
it… they must be pretty good if they regularly win competitions. But they’re only junior high
school students, after all…

I heard somebody clap and stopped my baton. “It’s time, that’s all for today.” They said, and I
quickly glanced at the clock, which read 9:02pm.

“I’m sorry, thank you so much,” I said as I bowed my head in thanks to all the people who had
helped me.

“Thanks for your hard work,” everybody replied.

“Good luck with your audition,” Kawashima-san said encouragingly, acting as a representative
for the group.

Yes, I will do my best. If they did so much to help, only for me to come back and tell everyone I
failed, well… then I wouldn’t be able to come to Fujimi anymore.

“Morimura-kun,” Yoshino-san called me, and I turned to him. “I heard that the competition is four
times as high as usual, and there are people from the conducting department in the mix, so you
might as well go in with the attitude that you’ve got nothing to lose. Because well, auditions are
always a gamble anyway, so there’s no need to be pessimistic from the start.”

“Thank you very much. If I take an audition, I do it with the intention of winning.” As I answered, I
wondered… how did he get that kind of inside information?

“Actually, the head of the music department there was a classmate of mine from the Tokyo
National University of Fine Arts and Music. He’s also the third son of the school director. I had
the chance to see him just last week, so I took it upon myself to talk you up a bit. It was at the
branch meeting of the Artists’ Association, so we didn’t chat for long since there are always a lot
of people to greet. But he’s a man with a good memory, so I’m sure he’d remember me. You can
mention my name if you want.”

“Okay, thanks.” I said, and as I returned his friendly smile I thought,

‘He really does have a habit of showing off, doesn’t he?’ I turned around when I heard the sound
of coughing; Kei was putting away his chair.

“Sorry! I’ll do the rest!” I hurried over and took the folding chair from Kei’s hand. “Sheesh, you
should hurry home and get some rest, I’m not in the mood for this.” Kei’s eyebrows raised at my
angry whisper. He quickly took the chair back from my hands and carried it away. Really!

“Aren’t you a bit hot?” Kei said as he held his hand on my forehead. I shook my head and fought
off the tickle in the back of my throat.

“I don’t have a fever.”

“You seem to have caught it, though,” Kei said apologetically.

“Looks like it, but it’s nothing serious. I took some medicine.” So…the time is...“Shall we head
out?” It was Tuesday, February 7th: the day of the audition.

“Yes. Have you got the map?”

“Yeah, I have it, as well as my music and the entrance pass.” I said this ahead of time so I
wouldn’t be bothered by more questions, took my violin case down from the shelf, and headed
to the door. It’s been a while since I’ve worn leather shoes, but I polished them up last night.
When I bent down to tie them, I found that I had tightened my tie too much and it was choking
me. Gah!

“Are you all right?” Kei asked quickly, and I laughed.

“I think the tie choked me. I’ve been wearing a lot of casual clothes lately.”

“I don’t think you had to wear a suit, though. Aren’t you going to be too cold in it?”

“Even if I get new winter clothes, I’ll only be able to wear them for a month anyway.” We walked
out the door chatting, “Wow, looks like the forecast was right.”

“It’s supposed to be cloudy and then snow. Do you have an umbrella?”

“I have it.” It was a gloomy, cloudy morning, and we joined the stream of office workers on their
way to the station. I hadn’t walked around at this hour, when the streets were like this, since last
November when I was fired from my temporary position. I bought some throat lozenges at the
station kiosk since my throat felt like it might start coughing. I transferred to the Inokashira Line
at Kichijoji after transferring from a private rush hour train to a regular rush hour train. Kei’s route
was the Toei subway via Shinjuku and Gotanda to Sengakuji. But…

“See you,” I said and got off at Kichijoji station, but Kei got off with me. “Huh? Are you going this
way?”

“You can get there by transferring to Shibuya.”

“It’s been almost six years since I moved to Tokyo, you know. I’m not going to get lost now.”
When I objected to his shepherding, Kei gave me a pouty look.

“It’s not every day that we get to go to work together like this, is it?”

“That’s true, but… oh, it’s crowded…” When I first moved to Tokyo, the rush hour trains were
what made me feel the crush of the city the most; such killer crowds never existed in the
countryside. I squeezed in, then squeezed and squeezed, until somehow I managed to find a
place where I could stand up straight. I was relieved. “So you go through this every morning?”

“I was thinking maybe I could try taking a bike, like Takane.”

“The distance is different, though… you have to go across the city. It’s impossible!”

“It’s good training for the legs and hips. The bigger problem is that it takes a lot of time. But if I
left the house an hour earlier than I do now…”

“That’s good and all, but then I’d be afraid of accidents. At first, I used to ride my bike to save
money, but the roads were too narrow and the cars went by too fast. It’s really dangerous…”
Just as I was saying this, the train announced the arrival at the station I was getting off at, and it
started to slow down. “Well, I’m off.”

“I’ll await the good news.”

“Yeah,” the door opened with a bang, and a cold wind gusted in. “E-excuse me, I’m getting off!
Sorry!” I somehow managed to get out, and the door closed with a swoosh. I looked for Kei in
the window of the crowded train as it started to move; my boyfriend, since he’s at least a head
taller than everything around him, peered down from the top edge of one of the windows and
sent me a smile. I wondered if he felt lonely now… I thought I could see it on his face. But there
was no reason to think that.
The private Kobayakawa School was located about a ten minute walk through a residential area
of tiny houses huddled against each other. It looked more like a government office or a hospital
than a school because of its five-story construction and lack of schoolyard — well, I guess it’s
not so unusual for schools in Tokyo to not have schoolyards. But I feel sorry for the students;
they couldn’t play baseball or soccer even if they wanted to. The space from the school gate to
the front door was a concrete parking lot, filled with private cars that probably belonged to the
teachers. I checked the time as I stood in front of the entrance and opened the single glass
door.

The school building — which had been in use for less than ten years — had a kind of
sophisticated air about it. No, this seemed like the visitor’s entrance, so that must be the reason.
As soon as I entered, I found the reception window on my left. I tapped on the glass with my
fingertips and greeted the middle-aged clerk who turned to me.

“Good morning, I’m Morimura. I’m here to audition for the Orchestra Club.”

The clerk nodded without smiling, got up from her seat and walked out the door, “This way,
please.” She waited for me to change into my house slippers and then stood to show me the
way. “Please wait here. Did you bring your pass with you?”

“Yes, um…” I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to her. The clerk took it with a blank
expression, opened the door with the sign ‘Vice Principal’s Office’ on it, introduced me with ‘This
is Morimura-san,’ and went back.

“Good morning,” I said to her anyway. There was a sofa in front of me, and on it three people
that I didn’t recognize.

“Good morning,” the youngest of them said as he stood up. He gestured to an empty seat on
the sofa and pulled out a business card from the breast pocket of his expensive-looking suit.
“I’m Kobayakawa, Director of the music department,” he said.

“I’m Morimura,” I said as I accepted the card. “Please excuse me, I don’t have a business card.”

“I have your resume,” he replied.

I waited for the Director to sit down, then took the seat he had offered me; the big cushion sank
heavily. I glanced at the card again, and the name on it was Kobayakawa...um… Ta-su-ku…?
How does he pronounce it?

“Tadashi,” he told me. I didn’t mean to ask him, but he could tell that I couldn’t read it.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I scratched my head. “I can read most sheet music at least.”
“Very few people can read it easily. Please don’t worry about it.” The Director answered with a
smile (of course, this must be the third son of the school director that Yoshino-san had
mentioned). He looked more like a young businessman than a musician who had graduated
from an arts university. He didn’t look like he was even thirty yet, but he had the dignity of a
confident man. However, he had a soft air about him, and seemed like a friendly person from
the way he spoke, so he didn’t strike me as bad at all.

“So you’re Yuuki Morimura-san, right? And your area of expertise is violin.”

“Yes, though I’ve taught high school brass ensemble as well.”

“You have experience teaching at three schools, correct?”

“Yes, but it was only for one year and five months total. It was hard to get hired because the
music departments required certification.” While answering his questions, I studied the other two
rivals in the room. One of them was unmistakably a horn player (since they had a case with
them), but the other didn’t have an instrument, which meant he was either a conductor or a
pianist. I guess he could be a vocalist… at any rate, both were male, and both were about the
same age as me. Maybe they were fellow graduates who had dreams of becoming professional
musicians, but failed to find a pathway to becoming a performer. Just before the designated
meeting time of nine o’clock, the last of the ‘four times as high’ applicants came running in (a
woman without an instrument case… so another pianist, vocalist or… conductor?). We were led
by the head of the department to the examination room.

Yoshino-san’s information about the school having an arts training focus was accurate, and we
found ourselves in the ‘Music Building’ on the right side of the main entrance, in a square
structure across the courtyard. On the second floor of the building there were four music rooms
and a row of private practice rooms. On the third floor there was a fifth music room and a small
recital hall. So if you include the art studios on the other side of the school, more than a third of
the grounds were used for the ‘special course’ facilities. There are four classes for infants and
toddlers, and two classes each for junior high and senior high. The elementary and middle
schools also have two classes per grade, and the high school is the same. I heard that almost
all of the graduates go on to the ‘right path,’ meaning Tokyo University of the Arts or Toho
Gakuen School of Music. Still, the whole school seemed quiet. There are twenty-eight classes
total from elementary to high, with around eight hundred students, but it didn’t feel that way.
Maybe it’s because the school is full of well-behaved young people…

‘But I don’t really like this kind of atmosphere,’ I thought, then reflected on that. I shouldn’t feel
that way, it’s not right for a teacher to dislike students they haven’t even met yet. Well, I'm
getting ahead of myself; there’s still the matter of whether or not I'll pass the audition.

Director Kobayakawa took us to the third music room; as soon as the door opened, we were
greeted with familiar sounds: the laughter of girls and the rough chatter of boys. Ah, what do you
know, it’s a school after all! There were about thirty kids, but they quieted down when they saw
us. Apparently our audition would be in front of the children that would potentially become our
students. There was one chair in front of the blackboard and four empty chairs against the
hallway window, waiting for us.

“I’m going to ask you to begin with the free piece performance, Tajima-sensei.” The horn player
was very nimble when he played Beethoven’s Horn Sonata, but it wasn’t a very interesting
performance. Next up was the woman who was almost late, and she played the piano. The
piece she chose was a sonata by Mozart; she seemed like a very emotional person. The third,
Kitazume-san, announced himself by saying, “My specialty is composition and conducting.” For
his instrument he also played the piano, but it made sense that his main skill required
announcing. However, considering the purpose of the audition, I was sure that his performance
wouldn’t change his position as the leading candidate. Then it was my turn.

In a song contest, going last is the best position… but in this case, I’m not so sure. The students
seemed to be getting bored with all the performances and were yawning all over the place.
Even if they’re in a music school, they’re still junior high students... maybe they don’t understand
the enjoyment of listening yet. As I stood at the performance seat in front of the blackboard, I
greeted them first. “Hello, I’m Morimura.” When I was an intern, I would use the same trick every
time I stood in front of a new group of students. I would see their eyes — which usually had
become dull — light up when I played. This is what I do on the violin, the instrument with the
sound closest to the human voice16. With a little practice, you can play like this. I smiled at them
and took my position to play. The piece I chose was Air on the G String, and I played it with all
the concentration I could muster, since it was the most prepared piece I had at the moment. I
wanted to show the kids, who apparently did not fully appreciate music, the beauty it could
have, even if I wasn’t particularly good. I want them to think, ‘Wow, that’s nice,’ even if it’s just a
little bit. But, I didn’t seem to be very successful… when I finished playing the last note and
opened my eyes, I thought I noticed some of the kids looking away.

“Okay, now I would like to ask each of you to conduct the assigned piece. Everyone, get ready,”
Director Kobayakawa said. By ‘everyone’ he meant the students; they all stood up at once and
got their instruments out from the cases in the back of the room. They took about fifteen minutes
to tune and set up under the Director’s guidance. I watched as he worked with them and
realized that he must have majored in education; he was very skillful and precise. If they had
such a teacher, there would be no need to hire another instructor from outside the school. But
maybe he’s too busy being the Director to take care of club activities as well.

Eventually the preparations for playing were finished and the conducting critique began in the
same order as the free piece performance. Apparently Director Kobayakawa was the only
judge, but I guess that one person was enough. He watched each candidate’s performance with
sharp eyes. After the third time of listening to the ten-minute piece, it was my turn. Just as with
the free piece, the students were beginning to show signs of fatigue.

16
T/N: The claim of “closest instrument to the human voice” is made by a lot of instrumentalists, including
viola, cello, and trombone.
“Are you all tired? Let’s do some exercises. Put down your instruments and stretch a bit.” I tried
to demonstrate, but nobody followed suit. Ahaha...haa, I remember hearing that junior high
students are at the most difficult age to deal with. “Okay then, let’s do our best, you only have a
little bit longer. The overture to Der Freischutz. Here we go!” They were clearly well-trained kids,
but none of them enjoyed what they were doing, I could tell by how they played and how they
responded to my conducting; they followed directions pretty well, but it was all very mechanical.
It was quite impressive how well they could follow a new conductor for the first time, though. But
they weren’t having fun.

“What did you think of the orchestra you would be leading?” The Director’s question seemed to
be part of the screening process, which he asked when we returned to the Vice Principal’s
room.

“They are a well-trained group of students. To be honest, I didn’t think a junior high orchestra
could do so well. Every member has great talent, and they’re working hard to improve it. It’s a
wonderful orchestra.” That was Tajima-san’s impression, and the other two said similar things.

“What about you, Morimura-san? How was it?”

I could feel my desire to work here fading fast, so I decided to be honest. I was also feeling
more feverish than I had in the morning, which might have made me feel a little discouraged. “I
know that they all probably started taking lessons before Kindergarten, and technically they’re at
a very high level. But… they don’t really like music. They practiced because they were
reprimanded if they didn’t, and they got better, but they didn’t choose music of their own volition.
I don’t mean to be rude, but I think those kids have just stopped there. I think they’ve reached
the limit of what they can do through forced practice.”

“Oh.” Kobayakawa looked at me with a smile. “So, if you were appointed, what kind of guidance
would you provide?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “To be honest, I’m not an expert in music education, I’m just someone
who hoped to make a living as a performer, but it’s not that easy… you know? So, if you were to
ask me what I would do, I would have a hard time giving a straight answer. But if I were to teach
them, I think the first step would be to teach them how to enjoy music. I don’t know exactly how I
would do that yet.”

“Would you be able to do something about that before the summer competition?”

“Well… it’s hard to say, it’s more of something you feel out.” Just then there was a knock on the
door, and a woman who seemed to be an office worker came in with a tray. She graciously
placed coffee and cake on the table and left.
“Please go ahead and take a break.” The Director tactfully invited us to have some refreshments
and chat. I really wanted to leave as soon as I was done, but as an applicant I couldn’t very well
just leave without saying goodbye properly. The Director tried to liven up the conversation by
drawing out topics from the other people’s answers, but I was mostly just listening. It seems that
I got a full-blown cold from Kei… my throat was starting to hurt and my fever seemed to be
rising. It’s almost noon… I’m not sure if I can go home yet… Ding-dong, Ding-dong, the chime
that signaled the end of class rang and the Director looked up at the clock.

“Well, we’ve done a lot of talking.”

Oh please… can we finally go?

“I’ll let you know the results in a couple of days. Thank you all very much for your time.”

I stood up with my violin case and thought, ‘Hmm, I feel like I’m in real trouble. I should stop by
the doctor on the way home.’

I was about to follow the other three out the door when I heard, “Oh, whose bag is this?”

I turned around and rubbed my head: it was mine. I went back to grab it, and the Director said to
me, “How much time do you have today? If you’d like, you can stay.”

“Ah…” I looked at him, wondering what he wanted, and he smiled.

“I want to hire you, so let’s talk about it.” Seeing the look on my face, he added, “As you said,
they need someone to teach them to enjoy music. I feel like you could do it. Will you give it a
try?”

“I can’t promise that I’ll make it in time for the summer competition,” I replied without giving it
much thought.

“Yeah,” the Director nodded. “They are, quite frankly, failing students. But it’s not their fault.”

I wanted to do something about it. If I don’t, ‘Music’ would become a lifelong scar for these kids,
synonymous with frustration. I really did want to do something about it, I couldn’t help but
sympathize with the kids in this situation; it was something hardwired in me. “I’m just a novice,
so I’m not sure if I can live up to your expectations. But I do know how wonderful orchestra and
music can be.”

“Then please, teach these children the joy of playing.”

“I’ll… try my best.”

“I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise. I’ve never been around junior high students before, so I’m sure I’ll need some advice
on how to teach them. I’m looking forward to working with you.” As I bowed my head, the
Director nodded with a sincere look.

“I’m really glad to have someone like you here. Now, shall we talk over a meal? There’s a pretty
good restaurant nearby.”

I had to get rid of this cold.

The ‘pretty good restaurant’ the Director mentioned was a French restaurant where a cup of
coffee topped out at 600 yen for the fanciest drink. Over the multi-course lunch I was told that
the orchestra clubs of the junior high and senior high schools are compulsory extracurricular
activities, with the senior high school having a single club with 60 members, and the junior high
club being divided into two ensembles: the first orchestra with 40 members, and the second
orchestra that we met today.

“Well, they’re something like first string and second string teams.” I thought it might be similar to
the relationship between the Citizen Philharmonic and Fujimi, but that’s not quite right. Fujimi is
no match for the Citizen Phil in terms of skill, but in terms of love for music it’s second to none.
“There are 50 people in the second club.”

“Really? So a lot of them were absent today?”

“Even if we take them out during class time, some will not show up. They just aren’t coming to
school.”

I winced… that means there were almost twenty students skipping school… “So are they not
showing up because they don’t want to go to the club?” I asked, but thinking there was no way
that could be it.

The Director shook his head, “It’s because of the discrepancy between the parents’ desire to
make their child a musician, and how the student feels about that. But…” He broke off for a
second and smiled grimly, “There’s no point in trying to fix that. Students who aren’t attending
school are the reserve group for transferring to other schools, but if 20% of the students leave
every year, it will start to affect the school’s reputation and the management will suffer. However,
we can’t compromise on the content of the classes, as it’s the very essence of the school’s
purpose. That is why we are placing great expectations on the role of the extracurricular clubs.”

Well… I guess this is a bigger job than I expected? “You’re asking me to take on the
responsibility of rebuilding the school?”
“Not at all,” the Director’s face broke into a wide grin. “That’s my job. What I want you to do is
create a club that the students will want to come to. I want you to make the second orchestra
feel like an oasis for the students.”

“But we have to participate in the competitions, don’t we?”

“I’ll leave that up to you as well,” the Director said emphatically. “The content of the activities is
up to you, and you can program anime songs or pop music. I’ll handle all the booing from the
PTA and the board of directors.”

“Okay… so, when would you like me to start?”

“If you like, you can start tomorrow. We don’t have that many days left for our third-year
students.”

I was hoping to have at least this week to prepare, but it was hard to say no to the Director’s
pitiful expression and good reasoning.

“So, you’ve taken the job?” I nodded in response to the gentle question, still in a hesitant mood.

“It’s more work than I expected, but I don’t know… they’re so good, but they don’t seem to enjoy
playing at all. I’m sure they’ve had to endure a lot of unpleasant lessons to get to this point, but
if they go through it all and only end up with bad memories, I’ll feel even worse for them.”

“If it’s not the field they want to go into, I think it would be better for them to find a different one
while they still can,” Kei said critically.

“I thought about that, but I’ve heard that the school is full of educated mothers and strict fathers.
These kids are suffocating under the pressure of their parents’ dreams. If it were possible for
them to escape it, I’m sure they would have done so a long time ago…”

Kei snorted, “I’m not sure… if these parents are successful, they will raise Yoshino-type musical
robots. If they aren’t successful, then they will create adults whose frustration has given them a
complex, and then they will do that to their own children… and so on, in a vicious cycle. Either
way, it’s not a good deal for the Japanese music community.”

“So if there’s something I can do, I’ll do it. It’s just a matter of feeling it out as I go, though, so
there’s nothing I can really do about that.”

“Of course, I don’t mean to discourage you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just… don’t want you to get so absorbed in your work that you forget that you’re a violinist…”

“Ahh, I know that.”

Kei gave him a doubtful look, “But when you decide to do something, you really go all in on it.
That’s one of the great things about you.”

“I’m only working two hours a day during the week, and I’m off on weekends. I’ll have enough
time to practice.”

Kei averted his eyes, “I have to admit… I’m worried that with Sora-kun and fifty more students to
take care of, you won’t have enough time to take care of me.”

“What’s with that, huh?” I laughed, but Kei looked at me like it was no laughing matter. But as
expected, he didn’t say anything
more.

“I understand. I’ll make you whatever

you want for dinner tomorrow. What
would you like?” I could tell Kei was
pissed off. “Ahh, I know. I’m sorry.
But… do you remember that time
Sora-kun was about to come in, and
Ikushima-san saw me… I really felt
like my face was going to burst into
flames…” It was last year when that
happened. I guess it was our own
fault for getting caught in bed in the
middle of the day on a Sunday. They
had a duplicate key so they could
come and go as they pleased.
Ahhh… it’s so embarrassing to
remember!

“Yeah, well, this place is made more

for singles, you know. Maybe we
should move to a place that has a
bedroom with a locking door.”

“I don’t know, I think it would be better

if Ikushima-san just learned some
etiquette.”
“Well that’s not happening.”

“But when you say move…”

“I want a place with a studio, a bedroom, and a large living room. Let’s look for it.” Kei said
simply, and smiled at me. “Though it’s true that this room is filled with memories of our first night,
but…”

I glared at him with a look that said, ‘What first night?’ But I quickly smiled, “It’s strange to think
about how we became like this after everything that’s happened… it’s not normal, is it?”

“Chalk it up to love conquering all,” Kei said, making my heart ache. He looked up at the clock
on the wall. “You should go to bed now. You’re going to work tomorrow, aren’t you? That cold
will be terrible if you underestimate it.”

I said, “Yeah...” and got up. I had gotten a shot at the doctor’s office on the way home from the
interview, so the feverish feeling was much less intense, but I still needed to be careful. I
wouldn’t want to miss my first day.

So, it was my first day at work. I was glad I went to sleep early so I felt decent when I left the
house. There was snow forecasted later in the day, and I could feel a chill in the morning air, but
I’m used to this kind of cold. I followed the directions I had used yesterday and arrived at the
school a little after 3:30pm.

“Hello, I’m Morimura from the second orchestra club,” I said to the receptionist as I asked for the
key to the music room. I thought to myself, ‘The name “second orchestra” isn’t very appealing. It
makes it sound like a second-rate orchestra, and probably makes the kids feel bad about being
in it. I should give it some kind of nickname.’

I was told that the rehearsal room I would be using was the same third music room we were in
for the audition. As I was walking up the stairs, a female student with a viola case passed by
me. She looked like a middle school student, so I called out to her, “Good afternoon.”

She turned around, gave me a quick hello, and ran up the stairs; this school sure has a funny
way of greeting people. There was no sign of the girl when I got to the room; as I got out the
key, I wondered if she was from the first orchestra. The heat was on in the music room, so I took
off my coat and wandered around a bit. There were no desks, so it seemed like this space was
used only for performance practice. In the front half of the room there were orange vinyl chairs
lined up, and in the back was percussion equipment. Looking at it, I realized that the timpani
was better than what we had for Fujimi, and the variety of percussion instruments was also
enviable. Ah, here are the music stands; I was told that we had to put everything back how we
found it after we were finished. I heard the distant sound of instruments coming from
somewhere; judging from the mix of sounds, it seemed like the first orchestra was getting ready
to rehearse. But… I’m still alone in this room. It was five minutes until four, but nobody had
arrived yet.

It ended up that the students came at almost 4:30pm, led by Kobayakawa-sensei — no, more
like dragged by him. There were around ten students. “I’m sorry to have you start with this few
on your first day, but do you think you can make it work?”

From the look on the Director’s face, it seemed that the other students had succeeded in
escaping. I smiled and said, “It’s no problem.” What else could I say to him? The students
sulked to their seats and looked dejected; well of course they were, it sucks being forced to do
extracurricular activities that you don’t like.

“Good afternoon,” I said to them. There was no reply, of course. “I’m Morimura, and from today
on I’ll be your new instructor. So…” I quickly wrote my name on the board. “My name is Yuuki
Morimura. As you heard yesterday, I am a violinist, and the concertmaster of an amateur
orchestra in my city. I started playing in fourth grade, so you could say I’ve been playing a little
longer than you guys.” I tried to make my introduction as friendly as possible, but the response
was the same as today’s weather: damp and cold. I left the podium and walked over to the
students, who were clustered in one side of the room. I took a chair that wasn’t too close, turned
it around, and sat down.

“Let’s talk a bit first. You, what’s your name?”

“...I’m Endo.”

I looked to see what the collar of his Gakuran was… “Second year?”

“...third year.”

“Sorry. I saw the collar, but my eyesight isn’t great even with glasses. And what’s your
instrument?”

“...clarinet.”

The pauses before each answer were his way of expressing defiance. I smiled, hoping it didn’t
look forced. “So you’re Endo-kun the clarinetist, then. Nice to meet you.”

“...”

I would memorize their faces, names, and instruments right now, so that no matter when or
where I see these students again, I’ll be able to greet them properly. “Now, what’s your name?”
There were four boys and seven girls, and all eleven of them gave me a similar look and
avoided my gaze. They turned away so they couldn’t look at me, their eyes tinged with a hint of
inferiority. “Well, since it’s our first day, I was thinking that we should give this orchestra some
sort of nickname before we’re done for the day.”

Silent resistance, as if they didn’t want this orchestra to have a name.

“Ah, well, maybe the others would be upset if we decided on one with only this many people.
Well, we can talk about that later….” But I couldn’t just leave things like this! I need to say
something more… even if it’s not an actual conversation, I just want to extend the time a bit
longer… Ahh… there’s got to be something to talk about. I glanced around the room to find a
topic, careful to hide that I was floundering. Something… “It’s really coming down.” The
students, who had been sitting like mud dolls17, turned in unison to look out the window. ‘It’s
been a long time since it’s snowed,’ I thought to myself as I let the students chatter.

“Sakanashi-san, can we get up to the roof from here?” The girl with braided hair nodded faintly
after a few seconds of no reaction. “Okay. Then let’s all go to the rooftop to see the snow.
Furuta-kun, Miyamori-kun, let’s go.” I was worried about how they would react, but they all stood
up — albeit reluctantly. I asked the third-year student Endo-kun to lead the way, and he did so
grudgingly.

We strolled down the corridor, going up the dimly lit stairs from the fifth floor. ‘Ah, is it locked?’ I
thought. But no, I was able to open it. Wow, what a blizzard! The sky had darkened over the
slushy rooftop, and tons of snowflakes were coming down, creating a monotone landscape of
white dancing against a dark gray sky. It made me feel poetic, “You guys don’t see much snow
here, do you? I’m from Niigata, so I’m usually kind of done with snow by this point, but it’s been
a while since I’ve seen it.” I said as I walked out on the roof.

The door slammed shut behind me. I thought it was because I wasn’t holding the door open, so
I apologized and turned the knob. Then I pulled it. “Huh?” I tried again, yanking harder. “Wait,
what?” I heard a giggle through the steel door, then heard it fade away. I was locked out. “Hey
you guys! Hey!” But it was useless; they took the chance that I would go out first and then
locked the door. “You really don’t like me that much…” I mumbled, standing in front of the door.
It was my first day here, and they locked me out on the snowy rooftop just because I was the
leader of a club activity they didn’t like… Do they really hate the adults who force them play
music that much?

I leaned back against the cold door, looked up at the gloomy early evening sky and sighed, my
breath making puffs of white. I didn’t know what to do… they probably weren’t going to come
back and unlock the door. It was also very unlikely that anyone would come up to the rooftop,
since people don’t usually do that. There was a chance that I would freeze to death if I stayed
up here like this… of course the kids didn’t think that far ahead, but if you’re wet from the snow

17
Doroningyo is a type of Chinese folk craft that also has a history in Japan. They are usually made in the
shape of people and animals and fired in a kiln.
and the wind is blowing on you without a coat on, there is actually a chance that you will freeze
to death by the morning if you aren’t careful. That means I’ll have to get somebody to rescue
me, but if I indict the kids they’ll get punished, and the distance between us will be even
further… I’ll take my chances, just give it one hour. It’s only five o’clock now, so I have an hour
to spare. I’ll bet… that they come to unlock the door, undo what they’ve done. Even if they don’t,
I’ll have a good excuse after six o’clock: I can say after the club activities were finished and the
students left, I went up to the rooftop, but something happened and the door locked behind me.
If I explain it like that, no one will know what they did… yeah, let’s wait and see. If that doesn’t
work, I’ll call for help.

However… it ended up getting very late before I was rescued from that stupid situation,
abandoned on the roof of the school in the winter. The staff hurried to leave the school because
the news said the snow would paralyze the transportation system, so none of them noticed that
the new part-time teacher hadn’t left yet… or that the key to the third music room hadn’t been
returned. The distance between the five-story rooftop and the ground was farther than I thought,
and the snow and wind also interfered, so my cries of SOS that I sent out whenever I spotted
someone passing below didn’t reach their ears…

In the middle of the night, I saw a flashlight and called out to the man who was holding it, and he
finally noticed me. But he was from the security company, and told me they would have to
contact the Department Head — Director Kobayakawa — to confirm my identity. In the cold
office, watched over by a security guard, I held my freezing, shivering body with my arms tucked
into my jacket to prevent frostbite on my fingers and waited for him to arrive. I was sleepy, and
had to fight the occasional dip in consciousness; in my foggy head I was thinking that Kei was
probably worried about me.

I was pulled out of my dreamlike state by a voice that said, “Oh, hi, I’m the one who called for
you. This is the man who says he works here…”

“Morimura-san? What the hell is going on?”

I clenched my jaw — which was chattering nonstop — and tried to smile, “I went … to see the
snow… on the rooftop…I’m s-sorry...” My upper body started to lean over, and I was grabbed
bodily... I smelled expensive cologne.

“Morimura-san? Stay with me!” It sounded like Kei’s voice.

“Sorry… I messed up again…” No, the man’s voice belonged to the Director. “I need...to… call…
worried…”

“Yes, he’s one of our employees. I’ll take him to my house for now. Morimura-kun? Can you
stand? Okay, hold on. Can you hear me? Okay, let’s go.”
I was still shaking in the car, and woke up when I was tapped on the shoulder. I managed to
walk, leaning on the shoulder he gave me, and fell into what felt like a bed… then I woke up
suddenly. I felt warmth embrace me; I was so cold I couldn’t stand it. I tried to hug the warmth
that was next to me, but my arms were too heavy to lift. I felt arms clutch my shoulders and hug
me tight. Ta… I fell back into a deep sleep.

“Yuuki?” I heard somebody say.

“Hnn…” I replied.

“Are you okay?” I raised my heavy eyelids; I noticed I was having trouble breathing. I coughed
out whatever was causing it, and then I could breathe easier, but the pain in my lungs was still
there. I closed my eyes and tried to hold it in…

“It doesn’t seem like he has pneumonia.”

Whose voice was that…? Director Kobayakawa?

“I see. It was a blessing in disguise,” I heard Kei reply.

“Morimura-kun, how are you feeling?”

I opened my eyes and found the faces of Kei and the Director looking at me. Suddenly I
remembered, “I’m sorry… forgive me…”

“I’m just glad it didn’t turn out to be anything serious,” the Director smiled.

“I’m really, really sorry!” I managed to say, but in my chest it felt like my lungs only had half their
capacity. I tried to get up and was shocked when I realized I was naked. “Um...my clothes…” It
felt like I had something stuck in my throat, and I tried to cough it out. I’m so...tired...I managed
to overcome my exhaustion, but my lungs were aching and I could only take shallow breaths; it
took all my strength to inhale.

“Your clothes were wet, so I took them to the cleaners. If you’re cold I have more blankets. You
should take the rest of the day off. I live alone, so don’t be shy,” the Director said.

“What should we do? Is it too difficult for you to get up?” I heard Kei say.

“What time is it?” I asked. “...The club meets every day, right?”

“That’s the last thing you should be worried about,” Kei said.
“Yes, there’s no problem taking the rest of the week off,” the Director added.

“No,” I replied. “I need to go today… this week. If I don’t, the relationship between me and the
students is going to be bad.”

The Director looked at Kei, as if he could help. But Kei said, “He won’t listen to anybody when
he’s made his mind up about something.” Kei leaned over me, “Well then, please rest up here
until it’s time to go. I’ll pick you up at the school on my way back.”

“I’ll be okay on my own.”

“You have a habit of getting lost in the middle of town; I don’t want to be responsible for your
funeral.” He was trying to play it off like a joke, but the look in his eyes told me how worried he
was when I didn’t come home last night.

“Sorry,” I whispered. Kei smiled at me.

“You’re usually the one who takes care of things, and I can’t maintain an equal relationship with
you if I don’t do something like this once in a while.” I could tell that he meant that for the
Director to hear, so he wouldn’t find out that I was living with a man… so I wouldn’t get fired
again for being gay. “How long does it take you to get to the school from here?” He asked.

“About three minutes by car.”

“Alright. If it’s 10:30 now, that means he can sleep for about four more hours. Well then
Kobayakawa-san, I’m sorry for all of this, but I have a recording to do this afternoon, so I’ll be
going now.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to hearing the broadcast.”

My lungs felt heavy, and just breathing in and out took a lot of effort. The Director probably
called my house number after he brought me here, and then Kei rushed to the scene as soon as
he could. I felt really bad, and not just for inconveniencing Kei; when the Director came back
after seeing Kei out, I said to him, “I’m terribly sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”

The Director nodded with a wry smile on his face, “We can talk about it later, so go back to sleep
until it’s time to leave.”

I was about to close my eyes when I realized… “Director, aren’t you supposed to be at the
school…?”

“It’s good to take a break once in a while, that way the rest of the staff can relax.”

“Oh no…! I’m sorry, you had to do that because of me…”

The Director smiled sweetly, “We slept naked together for one night, so there’s no need for
formalities. If you need me, I’ll be in the other room.”

I stared in dismay as the Director opened the door and left. We slept naked… we embraced
each other…with somebody other than Kei... I quickly looked under the blanket and was
relieved to see that I was still wearing underwear. No, of course, what am I thinking? The
Director just warmed me up with his body heat, as per the theory of treating people who are in
danger of hypothermia. But what about Kei? Oh, what would Kei have thought…? Of course,
he’s not the kind of guy to have silly misunderstandings like that... ahhh, I feel bad… not only did
I make him worry, I also made him feel uncomfortable and unhappy….

Every time I breathed I could hear a sound in my chest. I sat there trying to hold back the tired,
heavy feeling I had in my body in front of a bunch of empty chairs; none of the students had
arrived yet. Then, the door opened with a rattle… I could tell who I was dealing with because of
the way the door opened. A group of students I didn’t recognize lumbered in with a sluggish
gait. Five… fifteen in total.

I smiled and said, “Hey there, welcome!” Though my voice was a bit weak, and I could hear a
slight wheeze in my breath. “Go ahead and sit down. Is this everybody who’s going to be here
today? Are Endo-kun and the others absent? Oh, no no, that’s okay, you don’t have to go
looking for them. They probably have cram school or lessons or something today.”

A girl with a short boyish haircut stood up quickly and said, “I saw him earlier, I’ll go get him.”
She looked like she wanted to make sure that they didn’t escape being here.

“Oh? Sorry to trouble you.” Ahh… I felt tired, but I couldn’t let the kids see it. “Well, while we’re
waiting, why don’t you introduce yourselves? I’ll start by telling you that my name is Yuuki
Morimura, and I’m from Niigata, Japan. I went to the Kunitachi College of Music, I play the violin,
and one of my hobbies is cooking. So, how about you go next. Please tell me your name, your
grade, and what instrument you play.”

It took a lot of effort for me to catch all the introductions, as they were presented in the same
slurred or fast-talking way as the kids yesterday, but I was determined to get it right this time.
Just as I was about to introduce myself to two more people, the student from earlier came back
with three prisoners in tow.

“Hey, thanks for your help. Come on in, we’re just introducing ourselves.” It was the trio of
third-year students from before — Endo-kun, Furuta-kun, and Miyamori-kun — that had been
captured. They had been hanging out apparently, so were rounded up together. I waited for the
four of them to sit down, then turned to the girl who had gone to get them. “I didn’t get your
name yet, are you a third year student?” I was going to say more, but the exhaustion caught up
to me, and I began to cough and cough…
“Sorry… I have a little cold. Um, how about you, what is your name and instrument?”

“I’m Togawa. I play violin.”

“So we’re in the same business, eh? Nice to meet you,” I smiled and looked at Endo-kun and
the others as casually as I could, “Then you’re Endo-kun the clarinetist, Furuta-kun the
trumpeter, and Miyamori-kun the percussionist, right?” Then I turned to the two remaining
newcomers, “Okay then, thanks for waiting. It’s your turn, go ahead.”

“I’m Hashitani, and here I play cello,” she said briskly, her bright, round eyes shining.

“What do you mean by ‘here?’”

“I’ve played the piano my whole life.”

“Oh… so you took up cello so you could play a part in an ensemble?”

“Yes.”

“What year are you?”

“First.”

“So, that means you’ve been playing the cello for ten months?”

“Yes.”

“Wow… that’s a lot of work, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you want to play it? Or did your teacher tell you to?”

“I was told that they were short a part, so I just did rock-paper-scissors…”

“Did some of you others also decide your parts that way? Who else here is playing a different
instrument than what they normally play?” Ten hands went up slowly. Oh dear… “Who decided
to play it because they liked it?” From the way the students looked at each other, I didn’t need to
hear the answer.

“That can’t be fun, can it?” I said. “Music is meant to be enjoyed, as the word implies18.” I felt my
breath get weaker, but I continued, “Tomorrow is Friday, right? It’s the last day of the week, so
it’s perfect timing. Tomorrow we’ll discuss re-arranging the parts people are playing. Oh… and
18
In Japanese, the kanji that spell the word for music separately mean, ‘sound’ and ‘comfort/ease.’
do you own your instruments? Or do they belong to the school? Do you have both? Well, I
guess we’ll figure that out later. I’d also like to discuss the future of this club, and I’d like
everyone to be here for that. So if you could, I’d like each of you to talk to the others and make
sure everyone's here tomorrow. Also, don’t forget to bring your own instruments; I’d like to check
how many we have. Okay, that’s it for today, we’re done. See you tomorrow.”

As the students hurried off with relieved looks, I called out behind them, “Hashitani-kun,
Sano-kun, can I have a word with you both?” The two first years looked at each other and
reluctantly came back. “Sorry, I’d like to ask you a few questions about this club, about what
kind of music you’ve played so far.” Suddenly I was hit with a coughing fit… damn it. I fumbled in
my pocket for a handkerchief to wipe my teary eyes. My fingertips brushed against something,
“Do you want one? They’re throat lozenges.”

They didn’t respond, but I gave them each one anyway and popped one into my mouth. “You
probably played mostly classical music, right?”

The two girls looked at each other, and then Hashitani-kun said, “It was really boring.”

“Do you like classical music?” They looked at each other again, so I tried to keep their attention
in the conversation. “There aren’t many junior high school students who like classical music.
Some of them might like it fine, but they’re probably more into things like the theme songs of
dramas, stuff by Kougenji and Kome Kome19.”

They gave me a small nod, encouraging my musical matchmaking. “Well, then I’ll pick
something from one of them. Do you have any parts?”

“Or… could we do a song from Porco Rosso?”

“What’s ‘Porco Rosso?’”

“It’s an animated movie.”

“Hmm, I don’t know anything about animated movies except Nausicaa, but the music in that is
great.”

“That movie is by the same guy, Miyazaki.”

“Oh, okay. Well, if you have the music, bring it next time so I can look at it.”

“I have the music for piano.”

19
Kome Kome Club was a pop group in the 90s that had a hit called “Kiki ga Iru Dake de” and Kogenji is a
boy band from the 80s-90s.
“Yeah, that’ll be fine, I can arrange it from that. What else do you have?” I tried to keep the
conversation going by asking for more song titles, and as we were talking I got the feeling that
these kids didn’t actually dislike music. What they don’t like is being forced to do something they
don’t enjoy, and that’s normal for anyone. I wouldn’t like it if I was forced to play the oboe or
something that I didn’t choose, and then was bludgeoned into practicing it.

Even though I had to push myself to the limit physically today, I managed to show that I’m an
understanding teacher you can talk to. Sano-kun stayed quiet, but Hashitani-kun — who
seemed to be amiable to begin with — actually loosened up quite a bit. By the end of our
hour-long chat, we had moved on to more casual conversation.

“Morimura-sensei, where do you live?”

“Fujimi-cho, in **** city. It takes about an hour by train to get here.”

“Wow! Do you live with your family? Or are you by yourself?”

“Um, are you married?”

“I live with my friend, a guy.” Sorry, Kei…

I was tired of answering their personal questions, but I didn’t want to ignore them since they
seemed to have taken to me so well. When I could tell they were getting tired, I cut it short and
closed the music room a little early. I went down the stairs to wait for Kei, who had promised to
pick me up. I caught a glimpse of a shadow and smiled.

“Is that Endo-kun and friends? It’s okay to play pranks, but please be a little more gentle with
me; I was waiting until midnight for the rescue team last night.” I gave them a gentle warning as
I walked past their hideout. I knew it had to be the trio of them, Endo-kun and his gang. I
paused, thinking, then turned back to them and said, “Tomorrow you’ll be responsible for
gathering everyone. If there are any students that escape, I’ll tell the headmaster about
yesterday’s incident. Okay?” I smiled at his pouting face, “I think the story I used will work for
now.”

Suddenly I was hit with a coughing fit… yeah, I should probably get going. I tried to end with an
appropriately teacher-like remark: “Well, that’s it. Hurry up and go home.”

“We’re not afraid of being expelled,” I heard him say to my back. I stopped, scratched my head,
and turned around.

“That’s too bad, I guess we both played our trump cards, then.”

Endo-kun glared at me, “We don’t like this school.”

“I gathered that. It’s actually why I took this job. As you probably know, music doesn’t have to
mean just classical music. But anyway, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“If you’re going to snitch on us, just do it already!”

I shrugged my shoulders and walked away… obviously if I was going to do it, I would have done
it by now. Use your head! Oh — huh?

“You’re already here?” Kei strolled down the corridor and snatched the violin case out of my
hands.

“You seem agitated,” he said with his usual poker face, but in a voice loud enough that
Endo-kun and the others would be able to hear.

“It’s nothing, not a big deal. I’m sorry you had to come and pick me up.” I tried to change the
subject because it would make things difficult if he thought the kids were to blame.

Kei whispered, “I’m going to kiss you here and now if you keep being so polite.”

“Heh, do you want to make me lose my job again?”

“That would probably be better.”

“Now wait a se— cough cough cough!” I’m not sure how it looked to the students, seeing us
walking off with Kei hugging me around the shoulder, but as soon as I saw Kei’s face my energy
evaporated and I felt like everything was all right. He had the office call the cab company and
we took one back to the apartment; normally when he does this sort of thing I feel like it’s too
much, but I was thankful for it today. He didn’t ask me anything further, and I laid my exhausted
body on the bed when we finally got home. After that it was dark…

The next morning I hesitated… but in the end I was honest and told Kei everything about the
situation with the students, and how I felt about it, and Kei understood.

“If that’s the case, then I’m not going to tell you to quit. However…”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t get any closer to Kobayakawa-san than necessary.”

“I told you, didn’t I? It wasn’t anything like that… at all.”

“Of course not.”

“He’s just the Director and I’m just a part-time employee.”

“I know, I know. But just thinking about another man looking at your naked body, and being
beside you all night…”

I felt my face flush, “I know! I’m sorry! It was a mistake! But I thought it was you, you know, the
whole time… warming me up.”

“I didn’t kick him, did I?”

“But you’re angry…. of course you have every right to be, I spent the night in someone else’s
bed.”

“Stop it, just give it a rest.”

“You’re not convinced, though. You know nothing happened between us, but I was still in bed
with the Director.”

“Stop!” He shouted, and it shocked me into silence. Kei brushed back his bangs with a huff and
muttered, “The fact that Kobayakawa-san held you naked in his arms all night was the best
thing that could have happened to you, given the circumstances, and it was a decision I am
grateful for. So I don’t think that spending one night skin-to-skin with him is something you
should be worried about.”

“Wait a minute, do you have to say it like that?”

“What do you mean, how else would I say it?”

“Well, you know...saying I was naked… in his arms… skin-to-skin, saying it like that is so…”

“Right?” Kei had a strained smile on his face. “But there isn’t another way to talk about it without
using those kinds of words to describe what happened. That’s why I said to stop it. I’ve had
enough of hearing you say things like, ‘I slept in another man’s bed’ and ‘I was warmed up by
him’ when it’s with someone other than me. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Sorry…”

“I’m burning with jealousy right now, but it’s completely unreasonable.”

“I’m sorry… I’m really sorry,” I said to Kei, bowing and apologizing from the bottom of my heart.

“So, I bought a cell phone.”

“What?” I said. He brought out a box tied with a red ribbon and pressed it into my hand. Then he
pulled something else out. He showed it to me with a look of pride on his face.

“And a pager for me.”

“...Huh?”

“It’s just a precaution, in case there’s another accident. Next time I’ll come to the rescue and
patch you up.” Kei said it with great gravity.

I felt bad — because he was so serious — but I laughed. Then I laughed harder… of course, he
would think of something like that, and then buy a complete set! He’s the only one who would do
such a thing, seriously!

“Don’t you like it?”

“W-well… not really… but… hahahaha!”

“Hey, Yuuki, you’re laughing like an idiot.”

I kept laughing, then frowned at the pain in my chest as my laughter turned to coughing. But I
was so happy. Kei, you really… you… “...You’re going to be late, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I decided to leave in the afternoon. I have to start recording at one o’clock, so… well, I
should probably get going, then.”

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble,” I said out of gratitude and consideration to Kei as
he was about to get up.

Kei’s brow furrowed in annoyance, “Did you commit a crime? I told you, stop acting so formal
and apologetic about it.”

“Right, sor— ahaha… force of habit! I didn’t mean to!”

“Yes, yes, I know you didn’t mean to. Can I kiss you at least?”

“Ah…you shouldn’t do that, I’m still contagious.”

“I’m immune to it now,” Kei said, giving me a deep, firm kiss in the doorway on his way out.
“Also, I was asked to give you a message from Kawashima-kun.”

“Huh? What?”
“Congratulations on your new job.” Oh, right... yesterday was a rehearsal day for Fujimi. “She
also teased me.”

“About what?”

“She said that you and I were out sick one after the other, ‘just like a husband and wife, eh?’”

Ahh, jeez, Kawashima-san…

“By the way, please carry that phone with you at all times. You never know when you’ll get into
an accident.”

...That’s how most accidents are, right?

“I’ll keep it with me,” I swore, raising my right hand… but does that mean I have to take it when I
go like, grocery shopping? Good grief… I guess for now I should keep it until all the excitement
wears off. He bought the phone out of love, so... sure, I’ll do it if it makes him happy.

That evening, I called Kei from the music room at the school before work. The response to my
pager call was surprisingly quick, “Sorry if you’re at work right now, I was just testing to see if it
would work.”

Kei’s voice chuckled as he answered, “I was recording the finishing touches on Aranjuez.”

“Oh r-really? S-sorry!”

“It’s okay, I was just about to stop anyway — thank you, soloist.”

“Oh, sorry! Well, I’ll hang up now, and I’ll only use this for emergencies from now on.”

“Please wait, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hm? What?”

“Please keep your schedule clear tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s National Day, anyway. Come to think of it, tomorrow is also the 11th of February, so
it’s my birthday. So… will you go on a date with me?”

“Hearing those words come out of your mouth...”

“Is that weird? Sorry…”

“I’m going to be grinning ear to ear while conducting,” I heard a pong, warning me that I was out
of minutes, while he continued, “I can’t come home tonight, so —“ Pong. Beep-beep-beep
beep… he got cut off mid-explanation.

I waited, expecting him to call me back, when I heard a shrill voice shout, “Sen-seiii!”

“Gah!”

“Oh, s-sorry!” Hashitani-kun quickly patted me on the back; she seemed to have taken to me
completely. She asked me in a grinning voice, “Were you just calling your girlfriend?”

“Hey, were you eavesdropping?”

“You were on the phone, so I was waiting at the door for you to finish. So, a girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” the answer I gave without hesitation made my heart skip.

“Whaaat? Sensei, you really have a girlfriend?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What’s she like?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Ahh, so stingy!!”

“I don’t mind being stingy.”

“Heh, I’m going to find out about her for sure.”

“I’ll never tell.” While I was talking to Hashitani-kun, students began to arrive one after another
and fill the chairs. They seemed rather distant. Apparently Endo-kun and the others were not as
‘okay’ with being expelled as they had claimed. “So… is this everybody? Were the rest of you
absent because you all had colds? Well, I understand that. Okay, so I’ll start the discussion now.
The first order of business is the name ‘Second Orchestra:’ it’s not interesting and we want to
give it a cool name. Second order of business, I heard there are a lot of people who don’t like
the way the parts are organized and would like to be reassigned. And last, I want to ask all of
you what kind of songs you’d like to play, and then we’ll decide what we’re going to work on.”

Alright, alright… the look in their eyes is changing, little by little.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to come up with a name for the club immediately, so I’ll let that be
homework for next Monday. Please give it some thought. So, there are some people today that
didn’t participate in the re-arranging. Before we get started, I’d like you to introduce yourselves.
Let’s start with you, Sakanashi-kun’s neighbor. What’s your name, grade, and instrument?”

The pouting faces and mumbled, inaudible replies were not much better than the last two days,
but there was no need to rush this process. I’m just their club leader, and I don’t know them well
enough to say that I really understand them. What’s driving me right now is probably just
sympathy, and it wouldn’t be good for either of us if I deal with them just going on that emotion.
Eventually a sense of obligation would develop in me, and they would become spoiled. And
then both of us would be the worse for it. But, that’s only if I let things continue as they are now;
I’m confident I can grow to love these kids. Even now, the ones that think holding back and
acting pouty makes them cuter than the ‘good girls’ that I’ve already met… I’m beginning to like
them. And the guys who, even when they’re trying to act tough, are easily taken in by a
calculated word or two… I want to help them. They’re just children still, who need to recover
from the wounds caused by the violence of adults’ selfish dreams and gossip… I want to use my
abilities to do something. I’m here because I’m willing to put my body through the ringer in order
to do that. If my job was just to take care of ‘good kids’ I probably would have turned it down, but
now that I think about it, I’m starting to feel worthy of the job I got myself into.

“Yes, thank you. Is that everyone, then? Okay, I suppose we’ve kind of done this backwards,
but... I’m Yuuki Morimura and I’m a violinist, though I’m not particularly good yet.” It’s true. I’m
just a humble ‘pre-professional’ violinist that just loves his instrument, and plays purely out of
love for it. “Alright then, now I’m going to talk about changing the arrangement of the ensemble.
Let’s break it down into strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion. Go to the instrument section
that you want to play in. Of course, if you’re fine with what you’re playing now, you can stay with
that. Let’s see, strings should be around this area. Woodwinds are over there, brass over there.
Percussion goes in the back.”

“Sensei! Where’s the piano?”

“Um… let’s see, piano. Is there anyone who wants voice? Yes. You too? Okay, come over here.”

“Sensei! Does this mean I can play the instrument I’m already learning?”

“It can be any instrument you haven’t already played, or an instrument you’ve wanted to try
playing. But! We have a lot of instruments, so we might have to discuss and adjust the numbers
of each.”

“Sensei! Is there guitar?”

“Only if you have an instrument already or can get one. Yes, yes, yes! Everybody sit down.” It
was a good thing Director Kobayakawa agreed to let me reassign the parts: over half the
students wanted to play something different. Now the real hard work begins; how to make this
totally unbalanced orchestra work… That night I went to Director Kobayakawa’s house and we
discussed the best way to proceed until almost midnight. I was very encouraged to find that
Director Kobayakawa was the kind of administrator who was open-minded and a capable idea
man. And when I apologized and thanked him for the inconvenience I had unexpectedly caused
him, he just smiled and said, ‘What are you talking about?’ and didn’t mention anything about
what had happened that night. I guess he doesn’t want to remember sleeping with a man in his
arms, even if it was a rescue effort. It would be better for me too if he just forgot about it.

Well, it’s February 11th, a Saturday and (amazingly enough) a national holiday. I was trying to
be considerate to my body — which I was forcing to pretend it was over the cold — by staying in
bed, waiting for Kei to come home. I got a call on my cell phone just before noon; the caller was
Kei, of course, and he said he wanted me to meet him at Ototsubo at 5 o’clock.

“Of course, only if you feel up to it.” I was happy to tell Kei that I was fine.

“I’ll be there. They say a poor man’s medicine is work, so I’ve gotten better while doing this and
that. I still cough sometimes, but the pain in my chest is gone.”

“Then I’ll see you at five.”

“Okay, see you.”

Since Kei was Richie-rich, I thought he was planning to have a full-course dinner at the Imperial
Hotel, but I was glad he chose to go to a normal restaurant; silver knives and forks lined up in a
row just doesn’t sit well with me. Ototsubo is a thirty-minute cab ride away, so I lounged in bed
until four o’clock, then took a shower for the first time in three days. I wasn’t sure what to wear,
but Kei had gone out yesterday in his normal clothes, so I decided to match him. He didn’t take
a change of clothes with him last night, probably because he had to stay with the M-Kyo on
short notice, so his clothes would probably be the same.

I was supposed to be there at five o’clock, but the streets were so crowded that I was about ten
minutes late. I hurried to the door and it opened with a bang! The sudden, deafening sound
made me cringe.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Along with the sound of the voices, something red blocked the path in
front of me: a huge bouquet of red roses.

“Concertmaster! Congratulations on your 24th birthday!”

“Congratulations!”
“Heh, congrats.”

It was all Fujimi members who, while talking to me, placed the bouquet and ribbons in my arms.
“Okay everyone, I’ll show the guest of honor to his seat! Get out of the way! Morimura-san, this
way please,” Igarashi-kun bent down and waved his hands graciously.

“What’s all this, huh? I didn’t hear anything about it.”

Igarashi-kun grinned at me, my eyes still wide in shock, “It was Nico-chan’s idea. He proposed
having a surprise party like this, so please complain to him.”

“No, I heard Iida-kun was planning to have a party, so I thought I’d ask him over a quick drink,
and before I knew it there were so many of us!”

“Come on, come on, we can’t start until you sit down!”

There were around ten people sitting around a banquet table that had been assembled from the
square tables in the restaurant. Looking closer, I could see it was the group of regulars who
would have coffee after rehearsal at Cafe Mozart — to be honest, they were also all the people
who were the most deeply involved in Fujimi. But Kei wasn’t there, and there were four other
seats that were empty. Just as I was about to say something, a group of people came in through
the door at the back of the restaurant.

They sat down in the four chairs that had been meaningfully arranged in the empty space left by
the tables that had been moved over. The M-Kyo-member Quartet, led by Iida-san, were all
wearing tails. And the fifth person in formal attire, Kei, strolled up to the quartet and bowed
lightly to us with a violin in his hands. And to my surprise, he started to play it!

This piece is...well...what piece is it? It was the first time I’d heard it, a chamber piece in the form
of a canon for solo violin and string quartet. The sweet and gentle melody of the theme was
charming and memorable. I wonder who wrote it… it sounds like it could be from the
Renaissance, so I guess maybe they unearthed a forgotten masterpiece. I wonder who wrote it?
Hmm.. this phrase…is a bit more legato than if I were playing it, but... it’s still good, Kei. It’s
great actually, as expected from a genius.

I applauded the violinist for finishing the rather difficult passages without any mistakes, and the
quartet for their ability to play together in perfect harmony with him. “Bravo! That was great!”

“That was fantastic, Tounoin-san!”

“Well, the debut was a great success!”

As everybody applauded, Kei sat down in the empty seat next to me with a shy, somewhat
embarrassed expression that only I could read.

“Ehh, well then, I’d like to propose a toast…” Nico-chan began, and after he said that a server
came out with glasses of champagne; I’m sure that was Kei’s idea. “Everyone, please stand up.
Oh, Morimura-chan, please stay seated. So…” Nico-chan gave a signal with his smiling eyes to
Kei, who held up his glass towards me.

“You are a faithful Concertmaster who I can always depend on. You’re also an invaluable friend
who understands me better than anyone else. Yuuki Morimura, it was a very fortunate
coincidence that I was able to add a little something special to your memorable 24th birthday
with the premiere of my first piece.”

...What? So that piece they played was… his?

“I would be very grateful if you would accept my request to designate you as the soloist for this
piece from now on, even though I performed it with my limited skills today. Anyway, happy
birthday. Here’s wishing you all the best. Cheers!”

“Kampaaaai!”

I absently picked up my glass and brought it to my mouth automatically, took a gulp, then
choked, “Guh, cough cough cough!”

“Are you alright?” Said Kei, who rushed to pat me on the back. I nodded to him.

“S-sorry, I’m just a little...overwhelmed…” Kei wrote a piece like that… and then asked me to be
the one to play it…

“I think it would be better to wait until later for more toasts, so let’s just get the party started for
now.” Nico-chan’s words fell on deaf ears.

“Were you surprised?” Kei whispered, and I nodded to him. He placed a rolled up score tied with
a ribbon in my hand. “I was thinking of you when I wrote this piece. Please take it.”

“This is… this… it’s…”

“Didn’t you like it?”

“I’m not the kind of guy who deserves to get something like this...”

“If you say that, I’m going to hug and kiss you right now. If it weren’t for Ishida-kun and the
others interfering, that’s what I would have done in the first place,” he whispered back.

The thought of that terrified me, but I could only glance aside at Kei with raised eyebrows, “I
think I’m the one who’s going to kiss you. Ahh… I’m gonna cry!”

“That’s okay. You can hug and cry on me all you want.”
“God, you’re really...”

“Really what?”

“You’re really full of surprises. Like, a whole box full of them.”

Kei laughed out loud, and his joyful laughter drew the attention of everybody at the table. Of
course it did: for everyone else, to hear the Noh-masked Kei Tounoin laugh like that was
unheard of.

Iida-san called out from the opposite end of the table, “Did you have a name for the piece?”

“Yeah,” Tounoin replied, and everybody leaned in to listen. “In commemoration of today’s
premiere, I’ll call it February 11th.”

“Woo~! That’s so good! Very appropriate...It’s great, it’s perfect!” Igarashi-kun agreed loudly,
slapping the table even. That reaction… does he… happen to know about Kei and I? Of course
I knew what he meant right away, but the title February 11th doesn’t seem that surprising to me,
because of Kei’s peculiar rationalism. To make such a fuss… could be dangerous. Wouldn’t that
be bad? I broke out in a cold sweat.

“Um, Morimura-chan?”

“Y-y-yes!” I jumped a little despite myself. Nico-chan smiled.

“I think it’s about time for you to give a toast.”

T-t-toast? A toast? A toast, right! Um… “O-okay.”

“Everyone, quiet down!”

I stood up, struggling to find something to say, “Um… so… I was really surprised today, and I’m
glad you waited for me to give a toast… but I’m still not sure what to say, I haven’t quite figured
it out yet.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, take your time,” Hazumi-san, dressed in formal attire, picked up a cold chunk
of ham and tossed it in his mouth.

“I, uh… never thought I’d have my birthday celebrated like this, so…”

“Were you impressed?” This time it was Kawashima-san who spoke. Actually, wasn’t she the
one who gave me the bouquet of roses?

“Yes, really. I was very touched.”

“It’s a reflection of your character,” Haruyama-san said, her plump eyes crinkling.

“Since it’s the concertmaster’s birthday, I’d like to thank him for all the help he’s given me by
withdrawing my savings…” Everyone laughed, then applauded.

“So, um, well…”

“Yes, quiet! Quiet!”

You have to start somewhere, Yuuki. Give a good follow up to the presentation of February 11th.
“It’s a nice coincidence that the first work by Tounoin-san premiered today, and it makes me very
happy.”

“It’s as if it was made to be your birthday present.” Iida-san pointed out, and it caught me by
surprise.

I don’t believe it… you too, Iida-san? “Ahaha… y-yeah, it really seems like it.” I was trying my
best to keep myself from turning into jelly.

“It’s fine if you want to think of it like that.”

K-Kei?

“Considering Morimura-san’s contributions to Fujimi — and as the person who is most indebted
to him — I should have dedicated it to him formally.” As he spoke, he took the rolled up score
from my hand and untied the ribbon. He took a pen out of his breast pocket and scribbled in the
margin of the first page:

For Yuhki Morimura20, February 11th

from Kei Tounoin

He put the pen away, stood up, and held the score out to me. “I’ll present it to you again.”

Then there were a lot of cheers and yells like, “That’s great!” And “What luck, Concertmaster!”
And so on. My ears turned bright red. I couldn’t help but accept the score that he offered to me,
and then I also had to shake his hand… I tried to be polite, but Kei grasped my hand firmly and
locked eyes with me despite my efforts to look away.

20
Kei writes this in English, and Yuhki is the romanization of Yuuki’s name that he uses. Most other Fujimi
Orchestra publications romanize it as Yuki. However, that romanized spelling is usually used for the
feminine version of the name (which means ‘snow’). The standard way to romanize the masculine form of
the name is with the long ‘u’, spelled Yuuki (which means ‘courage’). Hence why that is the romanization
usually used in the translation of the novel.
“I’m looking forward to working with you and Fujimi in the future,” he said, trying to comfort me in
the situation. As we were greeted with a fresh round of warm applause from everyone — who
seemed to have taken Kei’s words at face value — something occurred to me. If this were given
to me openly as a gift, rather than lying about the reason behind it… and if their cheers were a
blessing given to us because they knew what our relationship was, rather than having to
pretend like this, I would feel a lot better… but that day will probably never come.

“Tounoin-san, you went too far!” I heard Haruyama-san say.

“Concertmaster, you’re crying aren’t you? You aren’t supposed to cry! I didn’t realize you were
that kind of person!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not every day that something can move you to tears.”

Thank you, Haruyama-san and Nobuhara-san, but that’s not why I’m crying. I’m crying because,
beyond the happiness of this moment, now I have an overwhelming fear of what kind of hell
we’ll go through if you find out that we’re gay… I took off my glasses and wiped my tears with
my sleeve, looked at Kei’s face with my blurry vision and said, “I’d like to thank you for this
amazing gift. Tounoin-san, you are my “Best Conductor” and I’ll follow you for the rest of my life.”

“Ohhh that’s great, Concertmaster!”

“The ultimate Fujimi duo!”
“I’ll be furious if you two break up!”

In the midst of all the excitement, I gently congratulated myself for coming up with the idea to
say this vow in front of
everybody who’s important to
me, the congregation in my
chapel. It’s a blessing based on
a misinterpretation, but it’s the
only way I can have them
applaud me for saying
something like this. I’m sorry for
deceiving you all, but I just
wanted to say it…

“I thought my heart was going to

stop,” Kei said between kisses.
“I was so happy I was struggling
to keep my self-control in check.”
“That’s my line.” I spat out with a gasp when Kei’s tongue left my mouth. “I didn’t know how to
react. Did you really write me that song as a gift?”

“Do you want to know the backstory behind the composition?” Kei whispered while gently
grasping my achingly aroused member.

“Yeah, I want to hear it.” As I whispered back, I wrapped my own hand around Kei’s hard cock.
His hand began to move slowly.

“You left when you weren’t feeling well, and I didn’t get a call until late at night. I felt like I was
going crazy as I waited in agony for you to return. The more I tried to guess where you were at,
the more bad thoughts came into my mind. I couldn’t resist calling the police, but they didn’t
have any information either.”

“A-Ah!”

“Just when I had decided to wait until morning, the phone rang. I thought it was you, but there
was a man’s voice on the other end that I didn’t recognize.”

“W-wait! Oh, shit!”

“The only reason I was able to forgive Kobayakawa-san was because of that phone call. But he
hung up before I could get his address.” As he spoke, Kei’s tempo increased and his
movements became more aggressive; with every stroke a pleasant sensation pierced through
my whole body.

“Oh...ah...my God…come on, hurry!” I pleaded. Kei opened my legs with deliberate slowness,
then pushed his fingers inside me with the same tormenting speed. My body was already
throbbing with desire.

“I knew that Kobayakawa-san had saved you, but I needed proof to convince myself that you
were mine and mine alone, so I wouldn’t add to my suspicions.”

“Kei, Kei, don’t hold back…! I-I’m going to come! Hurry, I want you inside me...” I cried at my
near climax, seeing sparks scatter behind my eyes. But Kei wasn’t going to give it to me yet!

“If you feel that song touch your heart, it’s because it was born out of the possessive desire and
jealousy that almost ate me alive. It’s the result of using every ounce of my self-control to resist
yelling ‘Kobayakawa’ all over Tokyo at three in the morning, and dedicating myself instead to
that accomplishment.”

“Ahh… Sorry… really… I won’t… make you worry about me again… please… I want you…” An
urge came on me suddenly, and all reason evaporated. No, I’ve actually been thinking about it
for a while… I’ve wanted to do it for a long time… but didn’t know why I couldn’t take the
plunge… when he does it for me without hesitation.

“Let me,” I said, gasping. “Let me… make love… to you.” I got up, bent down, and took him in
my mouth.

“Yuuki…..!”

Kei’s cock was smooth on my tongue, and I never imagined it would feel so good to suck on it
like that. Ah… this is Kei. This is what connects me to you; I’ve always wanted to make love to
you like this, to do the same for you as you do for me. I stroked him with my tongue, feeling his
thick member quiver in my mouth. I licked and sucked Kei the way he did to me.

“Hnng, ahhh…” he grabbed my hair so hard that I felt a snap. “Y-yuuki!” He cried, and then I was
roughly grabbed, pushed down and penetrated.

“Ahhhh!”

“Mm...mm...mm”

“Kei...Kei! A..Ahhh!”

“Y-Yuuki!”

He thrust into me over and over. As I felt him shoot inside of me, I finally let the scorching heat I
had been holding in flow out of me unrestrained. Kei held me so tightly that I could barely
breathe, our chests resting against each other as we collapsed in breathless satisfaction.

“Ah….ah..ahhhhhhhhh~” I love to feel your weight against me when you’re completely spent… I
love feeling the rough tempo of your breath beside my ear, I love the sensation of our
heartbeats echoing between our overlapping chests, I love the smell of your breath as it mixes
with my gasps…! “Kei… I love you…” I said, my breathing labored from my reduced lung
capacity. “I love you so much...I love you so much...that I can hardly contain it.”

“I love you too, more than words can describe! I love you.”

I don’t know how many times I climaxed that night; no matter how much I gave and received, my
crazy lust just kept burning. I felt pain, joy, agony, love, happiness… I just wanted Kei so badly,
and he kept loving me so passionately…

On Sunday, I was completely unable to get out of bed. Kei tried to act tough by getting up and
starting his daily routine of reading music — but he gave up after thirty minutes and came back
to bed. We would doze off for a bit, wake up again, idly chat about whatever thoughts came into
our heads, then fall back asleep…

“Still can’t get up?” The sky streamed red through the window when Kei asked me, after several
rounds of napping. “I’m starting to worry about starving to death.”

“Yeah… we skipped breakfast and lunch… what do you want to eat…?”

“‘Rairaken’ or ‘Pizza House’ would be quick.”

“Ramen or pizza...nah…”

“What would you like to do?”

“Maybe… steak.”

“That sounds good too. Let’s do that. I heard that there’s a new place called ‘Country Kevin’
behind the station.

“Yeah, I saw the flyer. But it’s pretty expensive, and they don’t deliver, do they?”

“I’ll treat you, to make up for the date we missed yesterday. If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll get up, I’ll walk. I’m afraid you’ll actually do that…”

“Well, I already asked and you still haven’t moved,” Kei said as he helped me get out of bed. It’s
not like I wasn’t hungry, but I still felt a little groggy, so I took a shower with Kei. My eyes
suddenly fell on Kei’s now meekly swaying cock, and as I remembered last night I
unconsciously licked my lips.

“Not tonight,” he whispered to me as the shower rained down on us, and I blushed when I
realized what I was doing. “I’m not up to it right now. But you made me very happy.”

“Ah, stupid...”

“Haha… here, let me wash your hair. Close your eyes.” Kei’s hair washing came with a kiss
before and after.

The steak was worth the price, and on the way home I was feeling much better and could walk
steadily. We started talking about the surprise party. “I thought it was going to be a date.”

“It was supposed to be, but then it turned into a quintet, and then you saw what it ended up as.
Would you still have preferred it to be just the two of us?”
“I don’t know… I’d have been happy either way.”

“You’re a real stickler for being honest, aren’t you?” Kei said with a smile, probably referring to
last night as well.

“I’m sorry. But just for now.”

“Yes, yes. Sorry for teasing you. I’ll apologize, if that will make you happy.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you?!”

“No, no.”

Hey, don’t pat my head. After yesterday I’m older than you again. “If I had known that was going
to happen, I would have worn a suit or something. I thought it was just the two of us, so I went
out in my normal clothes. I also didn’t realize you had taken your tailcoat with you.”

“You look great no matter what you’re wearing — although I like you even better without
anything.” He smiled at me as I glared at him. “I keep a tailcoat at the office, in case I have to go
on stage unexpectedly.”

“I see. I’m sure a rental shop wouldn’t have your size, either.”

As we talked, I remembered something about the party. I brought it up, taking care to sound
casual, “So… does it seem like Iida-san and Igarashi-kun know?”

“You mean, about our relationship?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’m worrying too much… but I don’t think Kawashima-san would have spread it
around…”

“Hehe,” Kei replied. “I’m glad that she’s so tight-lipped. It’s a shame she’s a woman with that
personality. I admired her ability to not react too much when you made that ‘love vow.’”

Oh… right. She does know about us… maybe I shouldn’t have said anything? After all, she liked
Kei so much that she aggressively went after him.

“Ah… I just worry about the consequences.” Really. I’m sure they’ll say something to me about
it on Tuesday… they know that I blush easily, and they’ll probably want to tease me about it.
But, I guess I’m entitled to have a little support from people.

“I made a mistake with Kawashima-kun, but I didn’t screw up so badly that even Iida-kun and
Igarashi-kun would notice. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, especially when it comes to you.
Nobody knows about us, you’re worrying too much.”
It wasn’t until much later that I found out his confident assurances were just a big red lie to make
me feel better.

Afterword

Hello, this is Akizuki. It's been a long time since I've talked to all of you who say that you don't
read anything but Fujimi. How have you been? And I'm sorry to those of you who thought Fujimi
was over long ago, but it's still going. The first part was seven episodes, and the second part will
probably be ten episodes (As I'm writing this note, it's a little before the publication of the
paperback edition, so I'm still in the middle of a fog about where the magazine publication is at).
Unless it turns out to be a situation where Kei and Yuuki give me the, "I'm sorry, we don't want to
be written about any more" letter, then there will probably be a third part…Hahaha, so there's a
long way to go. I've been feeling a lot of pressure from my readers lately because of their high
expectations. Even though I have already written more than ten stories, I can come up with a lot
of material, but I feel that the demand for the perfection of each story is getting higher and
higher (which is probably true)... Of course, cutting corners has been out of the question from
the start, but I think that everyone's expectations and love for me have risen to the level where
they are demanding more than I have the ability to do.This is a great thing for a writer, but at the
same time… I feel a sense of fear, like a runner being chased. However, as a person who has
been giving Yuuki a megaton of pressure and ass beatings, I can't afford to be weak. The more
you struggle to meet expectations, the more you will improve your skills. I'll do my best, and I
look forward to working with you for many years to come.

Now, I'd like to talk a little about some of the letters I’ve received. Fujimi's readers range from
the youngest, a sixth grader in elementary school (please don't let them grow up with a slightly
twisted view of love...), to those older than myself (it would be kind to not to say how old they
are). There are students, office ladies, people in my same profession, housewives — and even
a few men. Among them, there are a number of people in the music industry, and it is not
uncommon to find people who say they play an instrument. Some are actually active members
of orchestras like Fujimi's, some are members of semi-professional choirs, and some are
teachers who teach music at schools. Even among those who say they are just music fans,
there are many who are much more familiar with the world of classical music than me. As a
result, some of them have given me technical advice, such as, "This part is a bit strange," or told
me about their own musical activities and experiences to be helpful for my work. Some of them
recommended recordings for me to listen to, or requested me to use. It was as if I had a group
of brainiacs at my disposal... As I’ve mentioned in past notes, I only have a little background in
music, mostly vocal and choral.
For some dork who just churns stuff out on a word processor, I've been receiving very
encouraging support from all of you. Thank you very much for your continued support and
guidance. But really, this is all a bit strange, isn't it? Especially when this story is read by people
who are involved with orchestras… I was really worried in the early days that I might get a
reaction like, "You can't do gay stuff in an orchestra!” Fortunately, I haven't received a single
letter of the "unpleasant" or "don't be ridiculous" variety (unless the editorial department has
been throwing them out). On the contrary, a male member of a civic orchestra in Fukuoka sent
me a ticket to a concert, along with a letter saying that he’s enjoying reading it... (Unfortunately, I
couldn't go to the concert due to schedule conflicts, but if you’re really disappointed in me you
can throw your book in the trash!). Well anyway, with your warm support, I’m going to get even
better and I hope to be able to show you more of my work in the future. By the way, a reader
(also a man!) who is nerdy (sorry...) about classical musicians and orchestras sent me a letter
pointing out that Simon Rattle and the City of Birmingham Orchestra would be a better model for
Fujimi than Cleveland. Ugh, I'm in trouble... I've already written Cleveland, so... I can't go back
now! I'm depressed. I'm sorry for my lack of study! I hope you can forgive me for my profound
lack of knowledge. But the classical music world is really an ocean of information; when Yuuki
and Kei finally start walking the path to becoming professionals, the knowledge and information
I’ve gathered so far will not be enough to help them. I'm in trouble, I'm in trouble! So, I’m going
to put a headband on and do some serious studying, so that's it for today.

Akizuki Koh